The Constant Guardian
by hat-and-clogs
Summary: Something's rotten in the state of Romania and Integra and Alucard drop in to investigate, muddling through upwards of 31,000 words to sort it all out. Eventual AxI and epic adventure.
1. Dusty Exposition and Teacups

**Disclaimer: I am not Kouta Hirano. I do not own Hellsing (Hellsing owns me).**

**A/N: So it's been a while. A few months/ years. This fic has certainly been in the making for a couple years now. Unfortunately, only the plot, characters, research and awful puns (re: title) have been in the making, not the actual writing process, so update lengths will no doubt fluctuate dramatically.**

**Also, the most exciting part of this chapter will probably be the alliteration title.**

**Look at it.**

Chapter 1: Intrepid Integra Investigates International Intrigues

Integra jolted awake to the sound of her telephone, which to her sleep-addled brain sounded remarkably similar to the loud blaring of an ambulance siren, only, this one blared directly into her ear. Clearing her throat, she tried an experimental 'hello', only to find that her voice was horribly hoarse from sleep.

"Hello?" she addressed the air again, this time deciding her voice was satisfactory enough to actually answer the phone.

Snatching up the receiver on the fourth ring, she crisply said, "Hellsing Organization," noting with surprise as she did so that it was just past two a.m., and, less surprisingly, that she had once again fallen asleep doing paperwork. Admittedly, she'd been pushing her limits researching a peculiar surge of vampirism in Romania, but she hadn't thought she was that knackered. Perhaps she needed to take things down a notch.

"Hello," a voice crackled in reply from the other end. "My name is Nikolai Lukyanenko," it continued, revealing a trace of a Russian accent. "Am I speaking to Sir Integral Hellsing?"

"Speaking," Integra replied, intensely curious as to why one of the most qualified espionage directors in Europe was calling her up at two in the morning. Nikolai Lukyanenko's ruthless craftiness and extensive influence made him a man to be admired; yet he was so successful at his job that few people knew of his existence. "May I ask why you are calling?" she inquired mildly. _Yes_, she continued questioning silently, _why is the Russian equivalent of Hellsing searching me out? Neither of us should know about each other._ Not to mention that past—and recent—tension between their governments automatically put their relationship in a precarious position.

There was a pause. "I'm sorry," Lukyanenko backtracked, "I am getting ahead of myself. Is my name not familiar to you?"

Integra hesitated. "Should it be?" she asked warily. The cunning man she had researched out of professional curiosity and necessity sounded alarmingly meek for a person of his reputation.

She heard a tired chuckle from the other end of the line. "Oh no," Lukyanenko replied more assertively. "It is very good that you do not recognize my name. I represent one of Russia's best kept secrets…an intelligence agency outside the government and beyond the police."

Integra resisted a quiet smirk. Not so well kept a secret, after all. "That sounds familiar," she remarked wryly.

"Yes, we're essentially a Russian version of your Hellsing Organization," Lukyanenko agreed, before quieting to a more serious tone. "I would explain to you exactly why I am calling over the phone, but there's no time."

"No time?" Integra repeated, allowing herself to grow a bit worried. Perhaps it hadn't been good to toy with his perceptions.

"Very little time," he amended. "I'm sorry for the late hour of my call, but—first—I understand you've been researching an interesting phenomenon in Romania?"

Integra allowed herself to be shocked into silence, refraining from her instinct to ask him how he knew of her investigation. "…Yes," she replied awkwardly at last.

"Allow me to give you a brief overview of what I know about recent circumstances relating to your research—and of what's safe to say over the phone," Lukyanenko prefaced in a businesslike manner.

"All right," Integra said with trepidation.

"I had three agents stationed in Romania this last week," he told her briskly. "Routine investigation. Certain abnormal patterns we'd been monitoring were growing a little out of hand, to be sure, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. However, nine hours ago, my agents uncovered alarming information—information that I can't disclose over the phone—and shortly thereafter, they disappeared."

It always comes back to Romania, Integra thought wearily. Alucard's homeland seemed to be proving as unpredictably troublesome as he himself. "And?" she prompted, concerned for how the agents' disappearance in any way coincided with her pet project.

"They were investigating the spread of a new drug becoming popular right now in Romania when communications back to headquarters suddenly stopped," Lukyanenko continued. "We would normally dismiss it as a technological blip in our communications equipment, but the last word of their last transmission right before they were cut off was of great concern to us—and should be of particular interest to you, Sir Hellsing."

Integra frowned. "And what was that?" she prompted, her curiosity growing despite her lingering exhaustion.

Lukyanenko sighed. "'Nosfera—"'

"Two," a familiar, deep voice resounded unexpectedly next to Integra's other ear, nearly making her drop the phone. "Two in the morning, Integra, and I find you chatting on the phone. If I'd known you had such nocturnal tendencies—"

"I'm on the phone," Integra hissed at Alucard, covering the receiver with one hand.

"So I just stated," Alucard agreed. "Howev—"

"Quiet!" Integra snapped, reflecting on Lukyanenko's report. Nosferatu, he had said, before waiting patiently for her reaction.

"Mr. Lukyanenko," she finally said into the phone, "of course that word is of interest to me, it's practically my—our—trade. But how does this situation…involve me?"

There was a pause, as if Lukyanenko was struggling to think of a proper course of action. "Given the urgency of our situation, I think it would be best if I explained at a more secure location," he said cautiously.

Integra hesitated, taking a chance. "Hellsing Manor is quite secure," she offered.

She felt Alucard's alarmed gaze on her. "Integra," she heard him start to say.

"If you have capable facilities, I could jet in," Lukyanenko suggested.

"I do," Integra answered. " An air field should suffice, I hope."

"Integra…" Alucard began again, taking a step towards her.

"Most adequately," Lukyanenko assured her. 'I'll be there in six hours or so. We can meet on the plane."

"I look forward to it," Integra murmured.

"I suggest you come armed," Lukyanenko added, much to Integra's alarm, before the line went dead.

"Master," Alucard addressed her for the third time.

"I know what I'm doing," Integra assured him patiently, carefully dropping the phone receiver back into its cradle.

Alucard raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he inquired. "So—if I may be so bold—what are you doing?"

"Right now," Integra yawned, standing from her chair, "I am going to have some tea. Then I will review and prepare my notes from my research." She reached into the desk drawer to her right and closed her hand around the familiar weight of her Browning.

"Ah yes," Alucard murmured, "your—project. Investigating vampire demographics in foreign countries. Not my idea of fun, really."

"It may well have to be," Integra hinted enigmatically, straightening her glasses and slipping her gun into her holster. Clasping her hands behind her back, she maneuvered around her desk and headed towards the door.

"Hm?" Alucard prompted, opting to follow her out of the room.

Integra paused mid-stride and turned to regard him thoughtfully. "Alucard," she began slowly, "I know you've been snooping through my research." He didn't even bother to look guilty. "…What is your assessment?" she asked.

He tilted his head slightly in thought. If he was surprised at her request for his input, he didn't show it. "Obviously…something is inducing vampirism at an accelerated rate in highly populated areas of Romanian cities. The frequency of these occurrences in slums and other poverty stricken areas suggests a direct relationship to crime organizations, gangs, or…something else in that vein."

"Essentially my conclusions," Integra agreed, veering off the hallway into the library to collect her notes.

Alucard trailed silently behind her. "And the Russians?" he asked mildly.

Integra dropped her notes. "Russians?" she repeated innocently.

He looked at her reprovingly. "The man to whom you were speaking on the phone," he clarified. "I heard his accent quite clearly."

"I see," Integra said. "That's right. You can…hear," she surmised stupidly. "Better," she amended, seeing his amusement, "you can hear better."

"Tired, are we?" Alucard remarked snidely. "When did your Russian say he was coming?"

"In six hours," she said, yawning widely.

"Hm," he said unhelpfully. "Planning to go somewhere in the meantime?" he asked.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"You took out your gun," he pointed out impatiently.

"Oh," Integra said blankly. "Lukyanenko told me to come armed."

Alucard narrowed his eyes. "In that case, I, too, will bring my guns."

"If you feel you must," she muttered. "I'm going to go make tea."

"I'm going to go drink bland refrigerated blood," her vampire told her. "Back in a bit."

Integra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine," she sighed.

--

"When did he say he would be here?" Alucard asked, popping up behind Integra in the library as she was stirring her third cup of tea. Contrary to his hopes, she showed no surprise at his appearance, merely adding another spoonful of sugar to her cup.

"I told you," she said absently, flipping to the next page of the notes she was reviewing. She checked her watch. "In about half an hour or so, now," she updated.

"Or so," Alucard informed her. "He's preparing to land as we speak."

She blinked groggily, frowning. "But I can't hear any jet engine—"

"That's right," he cut in, "you…can't hear."

Integra pursed her lips. "Don't mock my exhaustion," she scolded.

"What can I expect," Alucard murmured with a shrug. "After all—"

"Alucard," Integra began warningly, eyes flashing.

"You're only—"

"Stop," she ordered through gritted teeth.

"…Human," he finished insolently, before vanishing through the wall in a satisfying coup de grâce.

Integra closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the wall, desperately seeking its solid coolness for comfort. Before long, however, she returned to the more preferable pastime of nodding off into her tea. If there was ever an occasion that called for tea, her impending meeting with a Russian supernatural intelligence agent certainly qualified. Her exhaustion alone merited liquid caffeine.

Her eyes flew open when she remembered something more pressing. "The jet," she gasped, abandoning her tea with notes in hand in favor of getting to the airfield. On her way out, she scribbled a quick note for Seras explaining where they were and left it on her door just in case they took longer than expected.

She reached the airfield only to encounter Alucard already waiting at the edge. "It'll be here in another minute or so," he greeted her coolly, all traces of his earlier impudence gone.

"Timely," Integra commented, checking her watch.

Alucard's head swiveled to the right in the direction of the jet coming into view, distinguished against the night sky by a single blinking light. "It's coming in too fast," he noted. "Your precious field will take a beating."

"He did say it was urgent," Integra sighed, but she flinched anyway when the jet hit the ground with a thunderous crunching sound.

The two watched as the jet eventually skidded to a halt. When it appeared more or less stable, they began cautiously making their way over to the aircraft as stairs from the side descended.

"Sir Hellsing!" Integra heard someone yell over the roar of the engines. A windswept figure came into view at the jet entrance. "Welcome aboard," he hailed. Integra took this as an invitation to ascend the stairs, Alucard reluctantly trailing after her.

"Mr. Lukyanenko," Integra greeted cordially, shaking his outstretched hand firmly. The hand's owner was a tall, lean, commanding man, sporting salt-and-pepper hair and clear grey eyes. He returned her looks in kind, taking in Alucard's formidable presence as well. Evidently he approved, for he stepped back and beckoned for them to enter the jet.

"I have so much to tell you and so little time," he began mournfully, agitatedly running long slender fingers through his hair while Integra and Alucard took their seats around a conference table that seemed rather incongruous in the jet's cozy interior.

"Perhaps you could begin by telling me how you knew I was researching the Romania enigma," Integra suggested peevishly.

Lukyanenko took his seat at the table across from Integra and Alucard. "Certainly," he agreed. "Actually, first, allow me to get you up to date with the intelligence I have," he changed his mind. Integra nodded her acquiescence. "Someone in Romania has developed a highly addictive drug capable of turning its users into vampires over the course of ten to twelve days," he informed her bluntly.

Integra and Alucard traded twin glances of alarm. "A drug," she repeated in disbelief, thinking of her and Alucard's earlier assessments. "That explains…so much," she murmured faintly.

Lukyanenko raised his eyebrows. "Does it?" he asked mildly, passing her a file of papers. "Here's what our conclusions are based on," he explained, opening the file and pointing out key data to her. "Symptoms and characteristics of the drug users—like 'increased craving for raw meat', 'heightening of all five senses'—as well as other observations." He sat back and watched Integra skim through the documents to confirm his statements.

She frowned as she read. "Exhilaration—that's the name of the drug?" she assumed, adjusting her glasses, which had slightly slipped down her nose.

"The slang term," Lukyanenko confirmed. "Users refer to it as 'Exhilaration' for its effects, but in the beginning they called it 'DNA' for some unknown reason—if there even was a valid reason." He punctuated his words with a shrug. "Unfortunately, all we know is in that small file. As I told you over the phone, I lost contact with my agents stationed in Romania. Given the vindictiveness of the person responsible for creating the drug, I am not optimistic about their survival."

Integra observed her Russian counterpart closely. His face was drawn with exhaustion, and the deaths of men for whom he felt responsible had undoubtedly cut him deeply. "I am sorry for the loss of your men," she said softly, seeing some tension ease away from his features at her words. "You seem to have some idea of who is behind this," she continued more pointedly.

"Just a projected profile," Lukyanenko downplayed with a shrug. "We've narrowed down his location to either Tirgoviste or Bucharest, based on the prevalence of the drug in those cities."

Integra saw Alucard's eyes flash with interest at the mention of Tirgoviste.

"Our man is someone with extensive scientific and medical knowledge, of course, as well as access to original vampire DNA," Lukyanenko continued. "Wealthy enough to develop the drug Exhilaration on a large scale without discovery, and established enough to spread it through the proper channels of vice."

Integra smiled grimly. "And clever enough to realize someone would track their movements, and malicious enough to act mercilessly on their suspicions."

Lukyanenko nodded wearily. "As for your initial question," he finally approached, "we were keeping close tabs on the information coming in and out of Romania, in case the perpetrator should be controlling the intelligence. Our own researchers kept coinciding with someone else—someone who had been there before them, reviewed the same history, population growth, news reports footage, you know…" he trailed off. "We were worried it was the supplier, mocking our attempts to track him down. Imagine our pleasant surprise when we traced it back to a potential ally."

"Indeed," Integra said, rather pleased that she'd gotten to the data first.

Lukyanenko fixed her with a piercing gaze. "And now I have a question for you," he said. "How did you discover the increased vampire activity in Romania?"

She blinked. "I try to keep tabs on most vampire patterns in Europe," she explained. "No easy task, of course—my organization is limited to gleaning information from unrewarding venues like hacking into police databases and a mediocre network of intelligence agents. Romania happened to be particularly obvious, and I felt it warranted further investigation on my part."

"A wise decision," Lukyanenko sighed, toying with a pen on the table. "And now we come to the foremost reason for our meeting," he murmured, looking at her intently.

Integra felt movement to her left and saw that Alucard had straightened and his eyes were glinting with renewed interest.

"My hands are tied," Lukyanenko informed her with regret. "I have lost all of my most valued agents in a matter of hours. Despite having jurisdiction over most of Eastern Europe, the Romanian government is forcing me out—they don't believe there is a threat. My own country is telling me to withdraw after the loss of my men." He paused to reign in his temper. "And yet, from my agents' observations, the drug is spreading rapidly through Romania's urban underworld," he continued. "There isn't much time before Romania will be rampant with undead. Unless there is a way of stopping our mysterious perpetrator and developing a vaccine to counter the drug's effects, this could very well spread over the continent."

Integra nodded her agreement.

"Which is where you come in," Lukyanenko addressed her abruptly. "I've read up on you," he told her. "My organization has an exceedingly large file on your exploits. I think you're capable of locating the drug manufacturer and stopping him."

Integra stared at him critically even as Alucard spoke up for the first time. "And what in particular makes you think that?" he asked smoothly, leaning forward and propping his chin up with one hand on the table edge.

Lukyanenko barely batted an eye. "Partly because of you, Trump Card," he replied mildly, before turning back to Integra. "I know it's been a while since you've done field work," he said quietly. "I expect you'll find this to be a tall order, but I honestly do think you can successfully infiltrate Romania and locate the person responsible. The infiltrator has to be someone with extensive experience, someone skilled enough to avoid being silenced by our drug-dealing friend, and someone with inherent knowledge of the vampire physique. You and Alucard combined qualify on all three accounts. In addition, the infiltrating group must be small enough to slip under the radar." He gave the two of them a meaningful nod.

"While I'm flattered by your confidence," Integra began, "blindly heading into Romania with the intent of single-handedly taking down a relentless drug lord and his drug-addled undead minions does not strike me as an ingenious plan."

Alucard's lip twitched. "I think we could handle it, if Lukyanenko ever gathered the courage to give us whatever's in that case over there," he said, with a nod in the direction of an inconspicuous black briefcase that had escaped Integra's notice. Her name was scrawled across a tag attached to the handle.

Lukyanenko jerked slightly in surprise, then nodded. "I'll take that as tentative acceptance," he said, reaching for the briefcase even as Integra began to protest. "In here are a few essentials—travel visas, maps of Romania, and," he paused, "a Macbook Pro, to name a few. The Macbook is directly connected to every major spy network if you need help or to report back. It has a few quirks added."

Integra stared at Lukyanenko, shocked at the mention of the laptop. It wasn't every day that one was confronted with the quintessence of computer technology…and Lukyanenko had mentioned quirks. She risked a glance at Alucard, weighing her misgivings and the plausibility of being able to stop the spread of the drug. She hated when Alucard tried to speak for her. The look he returned was a pure challenge, which did nothing to assuage her doubts. Turning her attention back to Lukyanenko revealed nothing, save his earnest determination—or desperation, perhaps—and his willingness to support her in any way he could.

What the hell, Integra caved inwardly, thinking longingly of that last cup of tea she'd never had a chance to finish. Tea that might have had a positive influence on her rational thinking, but it was a little late for that. "No nifty gadgets?" she asked, holding her hand out to take the briefcase.

Lukyanenko's lip twitched as he handed her the briefcase. "We're not exactly MI6," he informed her lightly. "I think you'll find that quick thinking and even faster reflexes will do you the most good in Romania."

"Then I think I'll find Romania refreshing," Integra smiled, silently questioning her sanity.

Lukyanenko checked his watch. "You'll also find it in the next six hours," he told her.

Integra blinked. "You're coming with us?" she asked in surprise.

"Oh no," Lukyanenko assured her, "I leave when we stop in Zurich to refuel."

"I see," she murmured, curling her hand around the brief case handle and standing.

"If you wish, there are refreshments in the back compartment," Lukyanenko said, nodding towards the doorway. "As well as more comfortable seats."

"Thanks," Integra said warmly, walking towards the back.

"No, Sir Integral," she heard Lukyanenko's voice trail after her, "thank you."

After using the bathroom, she slipped into a seat by the window and set the briefcase down by her feet. Leaning back, she closed her eyes, looking forward to a much-needed nap.

"If you plan on simply sleeping," Alucard said scornfully from next to her, "I'm sure you won't deny me the window seat." Hands scooping her up from her seat followed his words, and she was unceremoniously dropped into the middle seat next to him. Sitting up in indignation, she saw that Alucard was now sprawled carelessly in her former seat.

Having just begun nodding off when he took it upon himself to switch their positions, Integra shot him a dirty look. "You are a menace to my peace of mind," she muttered vehemently.

"If it's a piece of mind you want, let me give you mine," he murmured softly. "Have you considered how unbelievably risky this venture into Romania is?"

"I accepted solely for the happiness it would give you," Integra answered caustically, not needing a vampire's doubts to fuel her inner debate.

"You do realize you're leaving the Hellsing Organization without any stand-in director," Alucard pointed out practically.

"Seras Victoria can manage," Integra said flippantly. "I left her a note earlier, but I trust you informed her of our current situation?"

Alucard closed his eyes. "Mm, yes," he answered, "she has been notified of our exceedingly perilous venture into the unknown."

"It's risky, I know," Integra murmured with a sigh, "but that's never stopped us before." She yawned and glared at him. "Now leave me alone."

She turned away from him and rested her head against the back of the seat. Not the best of sleeping arrangements by any stretch of the imagination, but her exhaustion was enough to override the most uncomfortable of positions.

From beside her, Alucard grinned his approval.

--

Integra woke with the disconcerting feeling of not remembering where she was or what time it was. Compounding her confusion was the odd sensation of moving yet not moving, which delayed the return of her senses.

When her mind finally caught up with her consciousness, she realized that at some point during her nap, a blanket had been carefully tossed over her, and, much to her mortification, she had allocated Alucard's shoulder as a pillow.

Sitting up hastily, she caught the tail end of Alucard's look of amusement and adjusted her glasses. "Where's Lukyanenko?" she asked him sharply.

"He left when we landed in Zurich," Alucard replied dutifully.

"Zurich?" Integra repeated blankly. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Long enough for us to be passing over the Transylvanian Alps as we speak," Alucard murmured into the windowpane. "How pretty they are, all covered in snow."

Integra stood up and stalked over to the mini fridge, extracting a banana from a fruit bowl resting on the top. "I expect we'll…" she began, trailing off when she noticed Alucard stiffen. "What is it?" she asked, immediately wide awake.

Alucard responded by throwing himself at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her midsection, and kicking the emergency escape door open just as the front end of the jet shuddered with a jarring explosion and burst into flames.

"I suggest you close your eyes," Alucard murmured helpfully into a shocked Integra's ear, before tightening his grip on her frozen form and tipping them head first out of the burning jet into the icy high-altitude air of the Transylvanian Alps.

--

**A/N!!: So as contexty information chapters go, how boring was it? Boring squared? I guess it had Russians, macbook pros, an explosion, and some puns. Those must count for something. This chapter cost me six cups of tea, two chocolate bars, seven hours of sleep, a math letter grade and three bowls of ben & jerry's chocolate fudge brownie ice cream.**

**Also, a note about what canon this is: I couldn't tell you. I dislike writing in the animeverse, and I don't see how I could feasibly work this into the manga canon? For now I'll say this is tentatively set after the manga ends, so I guess the Hellsing Organization might be smaller and able to afford having its leader and trumpucard go on little vacations like Romania. This is one of those things I should figure out before posting. But it was really important to post today, because it's the second anniversary of when I posted Never Will I Rise!**

**That's not really that important at all. Hmm.**


	2. Castle on a Hill

**A/N: I have so little faith in this chapter's ability to keep your attention that I'm just going to add a quick summary here so you can skip reading the chapter if you want:**

**1. trees happen**

**2. mini fridge defies all laws of physics**

**3. shots are fired**

**4. some kind of sex beam or somezing**

**5. Alucard chops off part of Integra**

**6. abrupt and unprofessional POV change for one paragraph**

**There, now you can just wait for chapter 3.**

**Chapter 2: An Altruistic Alucard Allocates Acceptable Arrangements, Alleviating Another's Anxieties  
**

"Can't…breathe," Integra gasped, eyes squeezed shut while her lungs battled with the thin air rushing past.

"Neither can I, but that's of my own volition," she heard Alucard say unhelpfully over the roaring in her ears. "Another few meters and you'll be fine."

While she became increasingly numb with shock and cold, she tried to process the fact that they were falling through the air at a fatal speed. And that Alucard wasn't the least bit worried.

As Integra was wondering why that would be, their progress through the air abruptly slowed to a gentle float, and when she opened her eyes, she discovered that over the course of their fall, Alucard's back had sprouted large shadowy appendages.

"There goes our only secure way out of this place," Alucard observed, nodding in the direction of the burning jet wreckage that fell past them into the trees below.

"A missile struck us," Integra stated uncertainly, still staring at his wings with barely disguised amazement.

"Oh, most definitely," Alucard nodded. "I heard the whine of its approach right before it hit the cockpit."

Integra swallowed, becoming uncomfortably aware of their close proximity. "Thank you for saving me," she said stiffly.

Alucard's nostrils flared. "You're welcome," he returned just as formally.

Integra made the mistake of looking down to avoid looking at him. "The trees," she pointed out, staring anxiously at the fast approaching mountainous landscape that was covered in forest.

"I'm well aware of them," Alucard assured her, smoothly navigating past the foliage to support his claim.

They landed softly on the leaf-carpeted forest floor. Alucard steadied Integra against a tree and reabsorbed his temporary wings. "Are you hurt?" he asked her.

Integra detached his hands from her shoulders. "Slightly bruised," she said dismissively, realizing with some awe that she was still holding the banana she'd been about to eat on the jet. She pocketed it for later.

"I apologize," Alucard said blandly, noting she hugged her midsection from where he had grabbed her.

"Don't worry about it," Integra sighed. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

He shrugged. "Not specifically, no, but we can't be that far from Tirgoviste."

"Probably not that far off course, then," she concluded dubiously. "We ought to find the wreckage of the jet and get supplies."

"I saved the briefcase," he informed her, holding it up for good measure.

"That's excellent," she told him with genuine relief, "but I was thinking more along the lines of food."

"And if the people who shot down the jet should come looking for us?" Alucard inquired practically. "It appears that our drug dealing friend is well aware of our arrival—or that would be my guess." He tilted his head up and gave the night sky a thoughtful look. "At any rate, it seems Romania has not welcomed us with open arms."

"That much is obvious," Integra snapped. "But if we can locate the jet and get supplies, if what you say is true, we might also get a look at the people responsible for shooting us down. This way," she directed, starting to walk towards the smoke column that gave away the location of the burning wreckage.

"There is one small glitch in your plan," he pointed out coolly as he strolled after his master. "If we manage to get a look at the people who shot at us, won't they get a look at us? Something I'd rather avoid if they might otherwise be convinced that we're dead. Also—what are the odds that any food survived the crash?"

"Humor me," Integra suggested tersely, slowing as she neared the burning jet remains.

"Any sign of life?" he asked, coming up behind her to view the tangle of metal and flames.

"None," she answered. "I suppose our pilot was—"

"Instantly incinerated," he interjected helpfully.

"I'm quite capable of finishing my own sentences, Alucard, thank you," she said reproachfully as she began making her way towards the burnt out hull of the aircraft. Picking her way through the flickering fires dotting the ground, she reached the inside and found—for the most part miraculously undamaged—the mini fridge. Deeming it too large and ungainly to carry, she picked out some basic foods that were still intact and walked back over to him.

"Bread and cheese?" he asked dubiously. "How frightfully peasant like."

"Fortunately for me, my stomach is less discriminatory," Integra shot back.

"No fine wine to accompany such commodities?" Alucard asked with—hope? Integra wondered.

"There was," she replied, "but I'm not a fan of Pinot Noir." Her words were unexpectedly punctuated with a bullet zipping past, nicking her cheek on the way to embedding itself in a nearby tree. In response, she immediately ducked to the ground, seeking cover under a half of one of the jet wings. Alucard flung himself protectively on top of her for good measure, making her grimace.

"Are you all right?" he asked in concern, drinking in the sight of blood pooling around the wound on her face.

"Yes," she wheezed, wincing from the burn of the bullet graze. 'But you're—on top—of me," she gasped in protest.

"Yes, I know," he breathed with a hint of amusement. "Above you, for once. Do try to get over it, it'll only last until they stop shooting at us."

Integra fell silent, wondering why he didn't just get up and take care of their assailants instead of waiting for them to make the next move.

They heard more gunfire from their hiding place, a fair few hitting the jet wing with worrisome metallic plunks. During the lull that followed, Alucard slowly shifted off of her and boldly stood up. Two bullets immediately ripped through him, but he disregarded that in favor of surging forward over their cover and attacking the gunmen.

Two quickly silenced cries of horror and a dearth of further gunshots convinced Integra that Alucard had probably accomplished what their attackers had failed to successfully do to them, even before he reappeared with a particularly smug expression on his face. His expression changed when he looked at the slip of paper he had in his hand. "You should see this," he said, face shuttered as he handed her the paper.

Integra took it from him and struggled to suppress a gasp. On it was a photograph of her with some ominous Romanian words captioning it below. "What does it say?" She asked with a sinking feeling.

"It essentially translates as 'enemy of the state'," Alucard told her. "Obviously our nemesis has taken no chances."

Integra stared at him. "How could this—"

"We can debate that later," he interrupted distractedly. "First I must take proper care of thing one and thing two."

She blinked, looking on as he revived their two attackers one at a time and proceeded to stare at them intently, murmuring urgently in Romanian. Each man nodded with glazed eyes and wandered off, allowing Alucard to return to where she was curiously watching.

"What did you hypnotize them into believing?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, simply that they searched the jet and found no survivors," he said dismissively. "As for that paper…"

Integra glanced back down at the paper she was still holding. "Yes," she murmured absently. "I don't understand how it is possible that they knew not only of our arrival but our travel route as well."

Alucard gave her a piercing look as they began walking away from the wreckage. "Lukyanenko is certainly culpable," he stated neutrally.

She frowned in disagreement. "But why would he go through all the trouble to bring us into this mission?" she asked. "What motive could he possibly have?" She demanded. "I don't understand how the head of the Russian version of Hellsing could condone what is happening in Romania to the point of selling out to the enemy," she continued in confusion. "Would he have supplied us with all of that information if he had been working for our adversary?"

Alucard sighed. "While he gave us some reason to trust him, there is a fair chance he could have betrayed us. He mentioned pressure from the Romanian government, which could very well be under our adversary's thumb. Or it could be as simple as his family being held hostage in exchange for putting us where our enemy wants us."

"Lukyanenko has no family," Integra corrected. "It's…necessary to be emotionally isolated in his line of work." Our line of work, she added mentally, feeling an unexpected pang of self-pity.

Alucard, tactful for once, merely shrugged. "It's hard to see how else a missile could have reached our jet's exact coordinates. Lukyanenko is in a prime position to have engineered our current predicament."

Integra narrowed her eyes, still reluctant to point fingers, but decided to ignore his statement in favor of their more pressing problem. "More importantly, what are we supposed to do now with few supplies, apparently no one to trust, and no transportation?" she asked.

"I suggest we find shelter," Alucard replied calmly. "A base of some sort. There is a good chance that there is a town around here somewhere, or even just ruins. Any sort of shelter would be—" he broke off and tilted his head back to consider the mountain landscape. "Ah," he began again in a pleased tone. "There. Look ahead. An old monastery."

Integra looked in the direction he was pointing towards and saw rocky ruins outlined against the night sky that she hadn't noticed before, and probably wouldn't have, if Alucard hadn't pointed them out. Even though it was still early evening, the sun had almost completely set. "For once, I'm grateful that you're with me," she murmured tiredly.

Alucard raised an eyebrow. "What, saving you from a burning jet crashing through the sky doesn't enter the equation?" he inquired in mock surprise. "You ought to reexamine your priorities." He stopped walking and studied her face. "And your cheek injury," he added.

Integra's hand flew to her wound. "It's clotted," she informed him touchily.

He leaned forward in an intimidating manner to inspect the injury in question, but Integra stood her ground, watching anxiously as his lips parted slightly. "Not really," he said critically, voice dropping to a purr. "You really ought to clean it," he added reproachfully.

Integra shooed him away with her hands. "I'll clean it when we reach the monastery," she assured him, inwardly sighing at the grim prospect of scaling the steep incline prefacing the monastery grounds.

"Here," Alucard started, "no need to wait." He plucked Integra from the ground and transported them up several meters to the monastery entrance with a sickening, rushing sensation.

"I hope you sweeping me into your arms without warning doesn't become a pattern," Integra said with annoyance as he set her back down on the ground. To her mortification, she staggered a bit in dizziness, giving Alucard an excuse to reach out and steady her.

"I'm fine," she growled.

"Your cheek," he reminded her.

Not nearly naïve enough to think Alucard was genuinely concerned for her welfare, Integra pursed her lips in annoyance and looked at him thoughtfully. "It will heal on its own," she finally replied.

Alucard tilted his head slightly. 'It will heal faster…not…on its own," he countered smoothly.

Integra gritted her teeth. "No, Alucard," she said firmly.

Alucard fixed his crimson gaze on her. "Master, your cheek is bleeding and we have no medical supplies to encourage its healing. There are other, better situations to be stubborn about," he said reprovingly.

Integra heaved a resigned, long-suffering sigh and gave in, tilting her cheek towards him bitterly. "Have at it, then," she muttered, feeling a pang at how easily Alucard could make her feel so…childish at times.

Despite his earlier display of eagerness, Alucard moved towards Integra slowly, one hand cupping her chin and the other resting on her shoulder. As always, Integra could sense his body practically thrumming with suppressed energy, a feeling that only got stronger with his encroaching proximity. Integra closed her eyes against the onslaught of Alucard's tongue languidly lapping at the blood on her face.

It was only when he pulled away that Integra opened her eyes and took proper notice of their surroundings. Even in the night gloom, the crumbling walls and half-heartedly standing arches were fairly visible, setting a dismal tone for the place. A small mountain stream effectively divided the monastery into two halves, but posed little obstruction otherwise. The main building was depleted to a foundation of rocky walls that barely came up to her shoulder, but there was an outer structure, a smaller stone building, that was still mostly intact, even sporting some wooden slats overhead that could pass for a roof.

Swallowing, she turned back to Alucard—who was radiating contentment like a spoiled child who had gotten his way—and inclined her head towards the smaller building. "Shall we?" she asked, shivering.

Her reaction to the cold did not go unnoticed. "Of course," Alucard said smoothly, striding towards the diminutive structure, swinging the briefcase in a carefree manner.

"Careful!" Integra admonished sharply, following him into the shed-like building. The door fell over when she tried to close it behind her, but other than that small downside, the one-room hut looked like it would suffice for the night.

Sitting down on the ground, Integra pulled the banana from her pocket, followed by the loaves of bread and the cheese rinds.

Alucard looked at the lined up foods and smiled. "Banana, bread, and bryndza," he labeled amusedly.

Integra picked up the cheese. "Is that what this is called?" she asked dubiously, unwrapping it and spreading some on to a torn hunk of bread.

"In Romanian," Alucard explained, watching her struggle to bite into her meal. "Which, by the way, you should probably learn."

Had she not been struggling to chew her bread and cheese, Integra would have replied with more than a vindictive glare. When she finally swallowed she cleared her throat to speak. "Really, Alucard, how can you expect me to learn an entire language in the time we have—especially if your version of the language is five hundred years out of date?"

Alucard shrugged. "Those gunmen understood me well enough," he pointed out. "Beside, I touched up on my mother tongue during World War II."

Integra pursed her lips. "Fine, sixty years out of date," she remedied with no less rancor.

"I have ample time to teach you," Alucard continued persuasively, preparing another morsel of bread and cheese for his master. "Multumesc, for starters," he began, handing her his contribution to her dinner, "means, 'thank you'. Go ahead. Try it out," he insisted.

Integra accepted the bread and cheese from him. "Mool-tchoo-mesc," she sounded out resignedly, taking a bite.

Sobering, she looked at the paper with her photo on it and frowned, swallowing. "If these have been circulated within law enforcement, then I should probably stay out of sight," she mused.

"Or," Alucard countered, "simply alter your appearance." He smiled. "What are the easiest changes to make?" he abruptly quizzed, giving Integra an expectant look.

"Hair, clothes, accessories," Integra recited automatically in an obedient voice. She scowled when she realized how prim and obedient she sounded.

"Your father was a good teacher," Alucard commented, but he was unable to keep the amused grin off his face. "I believe you mentioned hair?" he asked mildly, holding up a Swiss Army knife with the scissors extension pulled out.

Integra stared at it in confusion. "Where did you get that?" she asked, caught off guard by the appearance of such a mundane—but exceedingly useful—object.

"It was in the briefcase with the computer," Alucard replied with a shrug. He snipped them in the air experimentally. "Shall I?" he offered.

Integra froze. "Shall you what?" she asked blankly.

Alucard looked at her exasperatedly. "Don't be so dense," he chided. "Shall I cut your hair?" he clarified.

"Oh," Integra realized faintly. "Ah…" She looked at the daunting paper that had her photo on it and winced. If cutting off her hair were the largest sacrifice she would have to make to avoid getting killed by their unknown adversary—who seemed to be one step ahead of them in every way—then she would count herself as lucky. "I suppose," she relented nervously, bundling up what remained of her bread and cheese and stashing the banana on top.

"Excellent," Alucard murmured, standing.

"I'll just go wet my hair in the stream outside, then," Integra suggested awkwardly.

"A good plan," Alucard agreed, making no move to follow her as she left the small building and approached the stream.

Integra eyed the stream with misgivings. She was cold enough without getting her hair soaked in a stream comprised of melting mountain snow. Biting her lip, she gathered up her hair and dunked it into the water in one swift motion, holding back what would have been an undignified squeak as her head came into contact with the icy chill of the stream.

When Integra's hair was sufficiently soaked and she was overly frozen, she stalked back to where Alucard was patiently waiting, almost regretting her decision to let him do away with her hair. "I'm ready," she told him through gritted teeth that otherwise would have chattered uncontrollably.

"Good," Alucard said, motioning for her to sit. When she complied he settled himself behind her and spread his jacket over her to catch the inevitable hair cuttings. With that done, he reached out for her first lock of hair, accidentally brushing his hand across her jaw in the process, and began cutting away at her mass of blonde hair.

Integra's initial concern over the fact that Alucard holding a sharp implement so close to her neck quickly dissipated as his repetitive actions lulled her into a slight, relaxed doze. By the time she blinked out of her daze, Alucard had finished and was in the process of gathering up the detached hairs.

"Done," Alucard announced unnecessarily, giving Integra's hair one last fluffing to help it flair out. He reclaimed his coat, allowing Integra to stand, and watched as she stood and stretched. "Here," he offered, handing her the Swiss Army knife. A small LED flashlight was attached.

Integra switched it on and walked over to the window. "Amazing," she breathed with unmasked surprise, peering interestedly into her reflection on the last remaining intact windowpane of the room. Alucard had somehow managed to give her a passably normal, layered haircut that was slightly longer than chin length. As she had hoped, it drastically altered her appearance, but inside Integra lamented the loss of her hair and wondered if it had really been necessary to cut off twenty inches of it. "Thank you," she murmured anyway.

"No problem," Alucard purred in reply, stashing away the Swiss army knife Integra returned to him and turning back to look at her appraisingly. "Your hair is surprisingly thick," he remarked neutrally. "Now it frames your face nicely."

Integra stared at him, unsure as to how she should respond. "My head feels immeasurably lighter," she finally added. "What should we do with the remains?" she asked, nodding towards the hair cuttings Alucard held in his hand.

"Hm," Alucard said, absently contemplating the locks of hair.

"We can't burn it, the fire might attract attention," Integra mused, thinking. "I suppose we'll have to bury it," she sighed, stifling her regrets about cutting her hair.

Alucard nodded seriously. "Then it will grow into a new Integra," he said, a smile twitching in the corner of his mouth, as though trying to remedy her obvious moroseness.

"Ha," Integra responded humorlessly. "I don't suppose that briefcase contains a shovel?" she asked dryly.

Alucard made a show of checking. "Sorry," he apologized sarcastically. "But we do have travel visas—little good they will do us now, seeing as we appear to be enemies of the state, and three maps of Romania, as Lukyanenko said, the computer, and"—Integra watched a brief expression of shock flicker across his face—"six thousand lei."

Integra stared at him. "I'm guessing that's quite a bit?" she asked tentatively.

Alucard nodded. "About the equivalent of two thousand pounds, I think," he converted roughly.

"All the more reason to doubt that Lukyanenko betrayed us," she concluded. "That's a lot of money to throw away."

"Indeed," Alucard agreed. "And all the more worrisome about how our new nemesis is getting his information."

Integra sighed. "As for my hair clippings…I suppose I'll have to dig with my hands."

"Do it later," he advised. "You'll be rested and able to see better. Unless…" he paused. "How do you feel about becoming nocturnal?"

Integra made a face. "Oh, fine. I'm already jetlagged enough as it is. What more could I possibly to do to mess up my biorhythms?" she snapped irritably.

Alucard smiled knowingly. "I could turn y—"

"No, Alucard," she said wearily. Alucard had offered to turn her countless times before, but even as a joke she found it hard to cope with the thought that he might value her that much.

"Going back to my original question," Alucard resumed, assuming a more serious air, "if we restricted our activity to night time we would have a better chance of moving unnoticed, as well as getting closer to the origin of the drug Exhilaration—which, no doubt, is thriving best in the illicit night life of urban Romania."

"Shouldn't we also establish ourselves in normal city life as well?" Integra pointed out. "We can't do that if we remain nocturnal, and it would also cast suspicion on us."

"True," Alucard admitted reluctantly.

Integra narrowed her eyes in thought. "We also can't be sure that they aren't aware of your presence," she said slowly. "They may even know what you look like, and just omitted your photo from the paper to lower our guard."

Alucard nodded his agreement, giving her a look of approval. "That is definitely possible," he murmured. "But easily fixed," he added.

Integra watched as his hair shortened to an unbearably spiky style. "Long," she pleaded, on behalf of retaining both her sanity and saving his appearance.

He reluctantly obeyed, brushing shaggy black locks of hair that reached just past his chin out of his eyes. "Doesn't do much," he said critically. "We'll have to see what we can do about clothes," he continued practically. "For both you and me," he added.

"The red certainly makes you stand out," she agreed wryly.

He raised an eyebrow. "The masculine suit certainly makes you unique," he countered. "We will have to go shopping—discreetly, of course."

Integra smiled at the incongruous idea of going shopping with Alucard. "Accessories," she realized suddenly. "My glasses still make me recognizable."

"There's no way to fix your eyesight unless you get contacts," Alucard pointed out. "Which we are not going to get for you, it's too impractical and suspicious. You may just have to go without clear vision while we're in public."

Integra huffed at this new inconvenience, but didn't argue. "Tomorrow, we should scout out our exact location and compare it to the map of Romania that Lukyanenko gave us," she outlined carefully. "Then we'll see about shopping and other particulars."

"A woman with a plan," Alucard commented.

"Not much of one," Integra said grimly. She checked her watch, thankful that she hadn't taken it off at any point between leaving home and flying to Romania. She frowned. The call that had woken her up from deskwork now seemed so long ago compared to everything that had occurred since then.

She realized with a sigh that she didn't have her watch set to Romanian time. "Do you know the time difference between here and—and England?" Integra asked, mortified to find that she had faltered slightly in mentioning her home country.

"Two hours, I believe," Alucard answered succinctly, wisely avoiding comment on her wistful stutter.

Integra reset her watch time accordingly. It was almost seven p.m. in Romania.

"For now, go ahead and rest," Alucard suggested.

Integra nodded, feeling her exhaustion and jetlag setting in, and lay down on the stone floor with her arm as a cushion for her head.

"Here," Alucard offered, giving her his hat.

Integra hesitated slightly before reaching out to take it from him. "Thank you," she said softly, tucking it under her head. Closing her eyes, she brushed her newly cut hair out of her face and tried to ignore the cold in favor of sleep. As this tactic began to work and she slipped towards unconsciousness, she was dimly aware of a warm, heavy coat settling over her shivering frame.

Alucard sat down next to her, leaning against the wall and drinking in the oppressive silence of the empty monastery that was overly apparent now that his master was asleep. He cast a glance at her sleeping figure, which was completely engulfed in his coat, and noticed with relief that she had stopped shuddering with cold. "Lesson two," he murmured softly, trailing his finger contemplatively down her injured cheek, "noapte bune. Good night."

--

**A/N: I suck at writing second chapters! No really, this involved a lot of agony! I feel so awful I just want to go sleep and never wake up again, but that might be because school starts in a week and a half. My tears, they are drowning my keyboard.**

**Reviews are welcome! I love reviews more than my own children! Which is pretty easy to do, because I don't have any children. ALL THE SAME…**


	3. From Russia with Love

**A/N: This chapter is shorter than most…a few slices short of a full loaf…and is also dedicated to Dexter, which was released on DVD today! Do yourself a favor and go out and buy it! It's really good! **

**SPECIAL NOTE: this fic would not be the same without the efforts of my thoroughly incredible and incredibly thorough beta, Annie. Without her, there would be no grammar. P.S. Annie, I got the BEST pants at H & M; I'm naming them after you.**

**Chapter three: Distinctly Dividing Distance Delivers…Drowsiness  
**

Integra awoke slowly, opening her eyes to dappled sunlight filtering in from gaps in the roof. Blinking against this onslaught of light, she sat up quickly, and immediately regretted it when a wave of dizziness passed through her. She looked down and was touched to find that Alucard had indeed thoughtfully thrown his coat over her while she had slept.

Smelling a pungent odor, she looked up and saw that Alucard had lit a small fire and was melting the leftover cheese onto some of the bread. "A vampire by a campfire," she observed with groggy amusement, indulging in a jaw-cracking yawn. As she straightened her glasses, she watched Alucard—who looked much more exposed without his coat on—attempt cooking.

Her subject of observation looked up when he had finished toasting—or perhaps burning was more accurate—what Integra assumed to be her breakfast. "Good afternoon," Alucard greeted her, handing her his blackened bread creation.

Integra eyed it with trepidation. Apparently Alucard's talents at hairdressing did not extend to cooking.

"It got a little overdone," he informed her ruefully, confirming Integra's inward observations.

"No matter," she told him dismissively as he dumped dirt over the fire and put it out. "Thank you," she added politely.

He tilted his head, giving her a meaningful look.

She stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Ah…multumesc," she finally understood after a brief staring contest.

He smiled. "Pentru putin," he replied, looking pleased.

"I'm going to assume that means 'you're welcome,'" she muttered, biting into the crunchy morsel of bread covered in cheese, which, as she discovered, was extremely hot and gooey.

"Adequate, I hope," Alucard spoke up, watching amusedly as Integra frantically blew on the hot food.

"Yes, it is," she assured him gratefully, finishing the last of it with a resounding crunch. "Although," she continued once she had swallowed, "I would kill for some tea."

"Perhaps when we reach a town, we can look into fulfilling your English penchant for boiled plant extract," he suggested dryly.

"Of course," Integra said smoothly, brushing the crumbs off of her lap. "How long did I sleep?" She asked, yawning.

"Long enough for it to be noon now," Alucard answered. "I buried your hair a while ago," he added.

"I—thank you," she replied quietly, caught by surprise and then amusement at how silly his statement sounded. She handed him his hat and coat, noting that he looked a bit drawn and tired. "Alucard, have you slept?" she asked sharply.

He shook his head. "I will when it is feasible," he said tightly, cutting off any protests from her.

Integra thinned her lips disapprovingly but said nothing more on the matter. Her eyes strayed to an unfolded map that stretched across the briefcase. "Figured out where we are, yet?" she inquired hopefully.

Alucard shook his head ruefully. "Not really, no. The logical choice would be to contact Lukyanenko, though I'm against the idea."

Integra frowned. "What, changed your mind about him since last night?" she asked, slightly puzzled. "There are far more pros than cons to be gained from talking to him."

Alucard shrugged. "That's true," he admitted. "He could track our location and give us directions to the nearest town. That's pretty useful." He thought for a moment. "But I still can't see how else they would have known to target our jet. If it isn't Lukyanenko himself who's betrayed us, it's someone in his circle."

"There's only one definitive way to find out," Integra pointed out blithely.

Alucard narrowed his eyes. "That's rather risky and foolhardy, especially since I don't really trust that Russian as far as I could throw you." He paused. "Although," he continued musingly with a wicked smirk, "I could throw you pretty far."

"Let's not try it," Integra said slowly through gritted teeth. "I'm afraid I don't share your sentiments regarding Lukyanenko," she continued. "We should at least let him know where we are and that we survived—he may have some advice for us on how to proceed."

Alucard stared at her. "If you think that is the best course of action, don't let my feelings stop you," he said.

Integra shifted uncomfortably in face of his deferment to her authority.

"However," he continued, "allow me to do the talking. Just…in case he turns out to be a…filthy traitorous scumbag."

"You've always had such a way with words," Integra murmured as she mulled over Alucard's suggestion. "I suppose it is more plausible that you would have survived the crash and I wouldn't have," she mused. "So having just you make contact with Lukyanenko would be—"

"Highly intelligent and the best idea brought up yet," Alucard finished for her with a playful grin.

Integra gritted her teeth. "About finishing my sentences…" she trailed off meaningfully.

"Aha," Alucard ignored her, finding and pressing the 'on' button on the laptop.

Integra blinked. "When did you take the laptop from me?" she asked bewilderedly as the laptop in question started up with a loud whirring tone that reverberated unnaturally in the still quiet of the monastery.

"Mm, about when I contemplated throwing you," he replied mildly. "I will trust Lukyanenko more than I could throw you if the first thing he inquires after when I contact him is your welfare. However, should he initially ask where we are, that is cause for concern."

Integra narrowed her eyes. "Is this how you always judge other people's true motives?"

Alucard spared her a look. "I've been accurate based on less," he replied with a shrug, before turning his attention back to the laptop. "When I met you, for instance."

Integra frowned. "When you met me," she repeated.

"Mhm," he acknowledged. "You said something like you'd never give up or bow down to anyone, which was quite endearing."

"Yes," Integra recalled, "and you slaughtered all of my uncle's men. That was sweet of you."

"And thus a beautiful friendship—" Alucard broke off to snarl at the laptop. "How do I work this thing?" he asked curiously, avidly watching the glowing screen. "Is there a—oh, Lukyanenko. There you are, on the screen. Hello."

Integra discreetly snaked an arm across the keyboard and turned up the volume. "Alucard!" Lukyanenko greeted frantically through the speakers. "I'm so relieved! Is Integra all right?" he asked with concern.

Alucard and Integra exchanged looks of approval over the laptop screen.

"I'll get to that," Alucard promised, leaning forward in an intimidating manner. "Are you aware that a missile struck the jet we were in and blew it to pieces?"

"Very," Lukyanenko said grimly. "Your pilot was replaced at Zurich without my knowledge. If my suspicions are correct, the replacement was responsible for sending the jet's coordinates to whoever fired the missile." He fell silent and regarded Alucard with narrowed eyes. "I realize you must be suspecting foul play on my part," he said bluntly, "but I assure you I have your best interests at heart." He stopped and fixed a steely glare on Alucard. "Unless, of course, your master is dead and you abandoned her."

Alucard's eyes widened at the accusation. "Why, you—" he began to snarl.

Integra placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and twisted around to face the laptop screen. " Hello, Lukyanenko," she greeted, watching as genuine relief flickered across his face.

"I'm glad to see that you are well," he told her.

Integra gave him a small smile. "I appreciate your concern," she returned. "What we need most urgently right now is an exact idea of where we are and directions on how to get to the nearest town on the way to Tirgoviste," she pressed on, not wasting any time. "Can you do that?"

Lukyanenko nodded from his window in the computer. "Absolutely," he promised, "let me just track the laptop from here. One moment." He disappeared from view, leaving Alucard and Integra to twiddle their thumbs.

Moments later the Russian came back into view. "You're at St. Gheorghe's Monastery, which, by the way, was abandoned over a century ago. This makes the nearest city a bit far, I'm afraid. As for directions…" he trailed off, fishing a slip of notebook paper from his shirt pocket.

Lukyanenko cleared his throat. "There's a compass on the Swiss army knife," he said, "so if you go due south you'll hit a road. If you keep to the road you'll eventually reach Cîmpulung, which is a fairly substantial city, so you can easily find transportation from there to Tirgoviste. I'd suggest going by train."

"Thank you so much," Integra said, eyeing the drop in the laptop's battery power nervously. "We'll have to end this now to conserve the battery power, just in case we have to contact you again before we have a chance to recharge it," she told him.

Lukyanenko nodded his approval. "Goodbye for now, then," he said.

Integra barely managed to get in a reply before Alucard closed the window and turned the computer off. "Rude of you," she noted reprovingly at his hasty cut-off.

"Must conserve battery power," Alucard justified prudently.

Integra bit back a nasty retort and concentrated on committing Lukyanenko's directions to memory. "Not the most specific directions I've ever gotten," she noted critically.

"That's all right," Alucard assured her. "Now that I know where we are, I have a better idea of how to get to Cîmpulung."

Integra stared at him uncomprehendingly. "How is that?" she asked blankly.

Alucard looked off into the distance. "I am familiar with much of Romania's vast and glorious landscape." His face took on a reminiscent smile. "When I ruled here…I used to roam the countryside to assuage the beast that was raging inside of me…"

"Cut that out," Integra snapped, ignoring his evil grin. "We don't have time for romanticizing. I expect Dracula tour guidebooks are bad enough." She glared at him reprovingly for good measure.

"Mm," Alucard hummed, still looking worlds away. "Cîmpulung…was Walachia's original capital."

"Was it?" Integra humored him, eyeing him worriedly. "Well," she continued more confidently, "now that we know where we are, we have a more solid itinerary until Tirgoviste."

Alucard snapped back to the present at the sound of Integra's voice. "And once we get suitably disguised and situated in Tirgoviste?" he inquired, giving her a questioning look.

She looked away. "To be honest…I don't even have the beginnings of an inkling of how to approach the actual mission," she admitted, absently massaging her temples. "As far as I can tell, we're at a disadvantage at every possible angle in comparison to our adversary." She sighed and looked back at Alucard. "If you have any bright ideas, now is a good time to share them."

"Yes," Alucard answered, "The Spanish Armada."

Integra looked up in shock at the unexpected reply. "What?" She asked blankly, wondering if he had finally gone round the bend.

"The English defeated the Spanish Armada in 1588," Alucard informed her in patient tones. "The Spanish, despite having firmly established their naval superiority, were at a disadvantage when their oversized, slow-moving ships confronted the small, faster-moving English ships."

Integra shook her head exasperatedly. "Now is not the time for a history lesson, Alucard," she said.

"The point is," he sighed, "you're small. You're English. If you take that into consideration, the parallel works out rather well, wouldn't you say?"

Integra fumed silently. "That tells me nothing," she said firmly. Alucard tilted his head. "Nothing useful," she amended. "Romania is not the Spanish Armada."

"It gives us a foundation to work with," Alucard said firmly. "Infiltration, rather than more direct means. Subtle detective work rather than action."

"I could have concluded that without references to the Spanish Armada," Integra informed him curtly. She cast a look around their dismal, decrepit hut and made a face. "Might as well get a move on," she suggested.

"Yes, let's not dawdle," Alucard agreed wholeheartedly. "The city—Cîmpulung, did he say—should have a clothes shop or something, so we can redecorate."

"And food," Integra added longingly.

"And _people_," Alucard added in the same wistful tone. He moved away to avoid Integra's admonishing slap and gave her an impudent smirk. "Shall we go?" he invited.

Integra nodded. "How long do you suppose it will take to get there?" she asked, beginning to walk away from the monastery.

Alucard blinked at her serenely. " Not long, if we travel like this," he answered, plucking her off the ground and relocating them downwards past the steep slopes.

Integra seethed briefly at both this indignity and Alucard's demeanor.

"It will be…a bit of a walk regardless of my shortcutting," Alucard said mildly. "With you in tow, my teleporting capability lags a bit," he explained. "And we can't have the locals seeing us appear out of nowhere, anyway."

"So I assumed," Integra shrugged, grimacing as air rushed past them when Alucard transported them several times to ultimately hit the main road.

--

"The currency in Romania is fairly simple," Alucard was saying as they walked along the road a few hours later. "There's the leu, the plural being lei, which is similar to the pound, and then subdivided it's one hundred bani to a leu. A ban is like a pence, I suppose."

"Mm," Integra grunted, too tired to tell Alucard to be quiet and too thoroughly mentally exhausted to take in the breathtaking scenery they were passing. More urgent was the realistic possibility that her feet would fall off.

'Banana?" Alucard offered suddenly.

Integra eyed him warily. "Why?" she asked suspiciously, trying to prevent herself from yawning or lapsing into a coma.

"Good source of potassium," Alucard replied seriously. At Integra's continued stare, he sighed. "You looked like you were fading a bit," he elaborated.

Integra relaxed slightly, accepting the banana with a small smile. "How thoughtful of you," she remarked.

Alucard grinned. "There's three pieces of bread left, too," he added, handing them to her in a neat stack. "Have a bread sandwich."

"Er. No thanks," Integra refused, alarmed at being accosted by a stack of bread. "The banana's enough for now," she assured him. As Alucard returned the bread to the briefcase, Integra wondered at this mothering side of him and chalked it up to extenuating circumstances.

"Why so anxious to have me eat?" She asked suspiciously.

Alucard yawned widely and looked down at her with droopy eyes. "It's so hard to get used to you with short hair," he remarked, blithely ignoring her question.

"I daresay it's more difficult for me," Integra countered, hoping all Alucard needed was a good day's sleep to sort himself out. She looked away to see that buildings were coming into view with each step they took up the hilly road. "Finally," she breathed. "I have never been so glad to see houses."

"Good, an inn," Alucard observed more practically. "We can stay the night and plan out our route to Tirgoviste. And then…take things from there."

"A solid strategy," Integra agreed sarcastically. "Oh, and a clothes store. How convenient."

"Yes, isn't it,' Alucard murmured. "You're welcome for flawlessly guiding us to a city with food and shelter."

"Never let it be said that I am an impolite person," Integra sighed. "Thank you Alucard, I am indebted to you. Even though we used Lukyanenko's direct—"

"Octavian's Inn," Alucard interrupted. "Quaint. I suppose we'll share a room?"

Integra thinned her lips in frustration, but let his interruption slide. After all, there were better things to be stubborn about. "Financially and security-wise, that would be ideal," Integra conceded, following Alucard as he strolled through the inn's entranceway and accosted the innkeeper. After a quick exchange in Romanian, Alucard traded some lei for a room key and motioned for Integra to follow him. The innkeeper lead them to a small whitewashed room with an adjoining bathroom and left them to their own means once he was sure they were settled.

"Ah, home," Alucard sighed, looking around the small room. "For now," he amended.

Integra eyed the single bed the room contained, along with a small desk and chest of drawers. "Hmm," she sighed.

Alucard withdrew more money from the briefcase before shoving it under the bed. "Clothing?" he proposed.

"Might as well," Integra murmured with a shrug.

"No glasses," Alucard reminded her, plucking them off of her face and setting them aside.

--

**This is as good a place as any to end a chapter.**

**Some shameful admissions:**

**-As far as I know, the monastery they stayed in doesn't exist. Totally made up. XD**

**-The inn, too, is nonexistent. I wanted a rustic oldish sort of setting for their first night back in civilization…and research online didn't turn up much in the way of real places. Hopefully no one minds.**

**-I wrote this chapter listening to the opening theme of sailor moon, densetsu, or whatever. But the point of me telling you is that it could be the reason why everyone might be a little bit out of character in this chapter. Which brings me to another major concern: did this chapter make any sense?? Look at all those question marks.**


	4. Distraction, Action and Attraction

**A/N: Since some people have asked me about the Romanian words (do I speak Romanian/ am I Romanian/ am I making these words up), I figured I better put a little note of explanation here: I do not speak Romanian, unfortunately, and I am not Romanian, even more unfortunately. I am only Japanese and German and Irish. Two thirds of the Axis powers!**

**That is not a good thing to say.**

**But anyway, since I don't speak Romanian, I use a little U.S. War Department handbook from WII. Since it's meant for the army, it mostly just has phrases like "Where are the soldiers?" (Unde sunt soldatii?), and "take cover!" (Adapostiti-va!). I'm digressing here, but the point is, it does also have some basic mannerisms and lists of food and stuff, which is mostly what I'll be/ have been incorporating into the dialogue throughout the fic.**

**Chapter 4: Preposterously Pale People Pursue Praiseworthy Protagonists, Precipitating Predatorial Practices.**

**I should win an award for these chapter titles.**

**Seriously.**

It was a perfect day for killing people, Alucard mused inside the clothing store.

Crisply autumnal, with just a dash of oppressive silence that was begging to be permeated by screams of the dying

How unfortunate, he decided, that he had to waste such a nice day shopping with his master.

It was their third day in his homeland, and they were acting no better than tourists. Even if it was out of necessity.

"Whites, greys, and blacks?" he murmured dryly, raising an eyebrow at Integra's selection of clothes. By Alucard's calculations, his forced obedience to Integra meant his best outlet of vindictiveness lay in inflicting misery and irritation on her. He'd done it successfully for years. "Not only will you be dressed in gradients, but that white blouse will come in handy only as a surrender flag when our enemies spy you in the night."

He paused as she made no reply. "How I wish I could slaughter something with my bare hands," he added in a barely audible murmur.

"Quiet," his object of torture snapped absently. "This is hard enough without your inane babbling." She frowned, clearly feeling at a loss without her glasses.

"Dark red," Alucard suggested, snagging such a shirt off of a rack. _The color of your blood if I punctured your skin_, he thought fondly. "Cerulean blues. Color," he emphasized, choosing a silky blue top from another rack. _The azure wasteland of your dying eyes as they lose their light_, he mused idly. Servitude, hunger and exhaustion made him poetic.

"Speak for yourself," Integra retorted, giving Alucard's selections a pointed look. "Black shirt, black pants, black jackets? Practically a rainbow."

"Color is for the living," Alucard informed her firmly.

Integra looked at him in disbelief. "You're wearing red right now," she pointed out in frustration.

"That's different," he shrugged.

"How is that different?" Integra demanded skeptically.

"It's to camouflage the bloodstains, of course," he replied airily. "Do hurry up, I'm getting hungry," he continued. He decided to do her a favor, and dropped the crimson blouse and blue top into her basket.

"I don't—" she protested, reaching out to put the shirts back.

Alucard caught her hand even as he tossed a deep blue pea coat in along with the red shirt. "Defy my selections and I'll simply put in more," he threatened, stealthily adding a deep green long sleeve shirt.

"Then I'll just go try these on," Integra replied huffily.

"Yes, do," he murmured absently, his attention caught by a scruffy young man in the far corner of the shop. "That man…" he muttered. Integra turned at the sound of his voice and caught him watching as the disheveled subject in question make some sort of motion with his head, but without her glasses she couldn't see it clearly. She watched as Alucard catalogued this movement, seeing an uncharacteristic series of a variety of emotions flit across his face, only to vanish as abruptly as they had come. She blinked. Disbelief, anger, shock, sadness, and hatred had marred his face all at once for one brief moment, only to fade away. It was so far outside of her defined concept of Alucard that she caved to softly asking, "Are you alright?"

"That man..." Alucard muttered again. "He tossed his head back."

"To get his hair out of his eyes," Integra explained for him, surprised that such a mundane action had provoked that strong of a reaction from Alucard. "Whereas you simply command your hair to move at will. Alucard, is there something wrong?" she asked impatiently.

He reluctantly turned to face her, reassuming his normal demeanor as if his registering of Integra's presence seemed to stabilize him. "No, nothing's wro—get down," he interrupted himself in a growl, shoving her to the ground. His shove brought a yelp from Integra as she fell to the floor on her side. From the ground she watched as the man Alucard had been observing just moments before leapt towards him, his face an alarming mask of narrowed eyes and bared teeth. Elongated teeth.

The shop clerk let out a scream, distracting Integra, but her distress seemed to disappear when Alucard easily disposed of his attacker by simply tearing out his throat. From there all it took was Alucard's well-placed hand thrust through the heart, and the man exploded abruptly into dust, settling on the floor to mingle with the lint and dirt.

Alucard turned to the single, elderly shop clerk and approached her bearing a regal air. Integra had seen that look before, that ultimate assumption of dominance and power that he sometimes exuded—especially after killing something. He leaned forward over the counter and matched her fearful gaze with a piercing one of his own.

Integra watched as he leaned forward, cupping her chin with one hand, and murmured Romanian close to her ear.

He withdrew his hand, leaving the clerk a trembling mixture of fear and awe, and smiled when she bagged their clothes items and shoved them at him. "Take them for free," she said in accented English, eyes lowered.

"Multumesc," Alucard purred, his smile curving into a satisfied grin. He nodded towards the pile of dust on the floor. "Sorry," he apologized ruefully. "I hope you have a vacuum cleaner." He turned to look down at Integra. "Master," he began more lightly, "as much as I like you on the floor, we should leave."

Integra pursed her lips in disapproval at his comment and disregarded his outstretched hand as she stood up from the floor. He was the one who had shoved her down, after all. She did, however, take one of the shopping bags from him and walked out, exiting the shop in silence.

"What did you do to her?" she asked accusingly once they were outside, expecting one of the usual suspects—hypnosis, thrall, mind control.

Alucard spared her a quick glance. "I gave her a taste," he replied coolly.

"A taste?" Integra repeated suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"

"A glimpse," Alucard reworded, "of who I really am."

"A vampire?" Integra guessed, horrified that he might have intimidated an old, kindly woman like that.

"No, no," Alucard reassured her condescendingly, "my royalty. My past. I let her taste the authenticity of my presence...my return to my homeland, and the promise I must uphold to my people."

"What," Integra began, voice dripping with skepticism, "like King Arthur? Returning from his vacation in a lake?"

"Precisely," Alucard murmured, giving her a pleased look. "Parallels, Integra," he mused. "You make them so nicely."

"You're in a good mood," she muttered darkly.

"How could I not?" Alucard murmured, "I got my wish."

"I'm not going to ask the particulars of that," Integra grumbled, feeling relieved when the inn came into view. "But I do hope your little stunt in that store doesn't spread around. I was under the impression that we weren't to draw attention to ourselves."

Alucard simply smiled. "If the consequences of my actions reap a slip up on the part of our adversary, I will consider it a stunt well served." He took their room key from his coat pocket and let them into their room. "Besides, by drinking that vampire's blood, I have…gained his memories. There are things you need to know."

Integra gave him a startled look. "You mean he's…" she began, not quite sure what she was trying to ask.

Alucard silenced her with a look. "Change into your new, normal clothes and then we shall go to a restaurant and discuss," he told her.

"No," Integra said firmly with unshakeable determination. "First I am taking a shower." Dodging explosions and gunfire, along with sleeping in the wilderness, added up to a long, luxurious shower in her mind, and she was intent on getting it.

Alucard shrugged. "If you must," he said carelessly.

Integra searched through the shopping bags for an outfit to change into when she was clean.

Alucard pulled his own purchases from the shopping bags and stepped away. "The red shirt would be nice," he suggested, giving her a look.

She pursed her lips in annoyance and quickly pulled out the red blouse and some black pants before slipping into the bathroom.

The water stayed surprisingly hot for the duration of her shower, giving her ample time to stare moodily at the bath tiles in front of her in relative comfort, temperature-wise. The tiled wall under her scrutiny was ivory white, creating the perfect blank canvas for her reflections on her day.

Alucard had made his first kill since their arrival. This in itself was not alarming, Integra conceded, but inevitable. It was that he had had to do so in Cîmpulung that was worrisome. She hadn't been expecting opposition within outlying cities so soon.

She reached for the shampoo on the bathtub rim, noting that there wasn't any conditioner. But seeing as shampoo alone was the greatest luxury than she had had in the last two days, she didn't really mind.

Just how extensive was their adversary's network of surveillance and offense? Integra wondered. Judging by the man in the clothes shop earlier, it was much larger than Lukyanenko's outlined sketch of Tirgoviste and Bucharest.

A crisp knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. "Are trying to drown yourself?" Alucard asked impatiently in muffled tones from the other side of the door.

She sighed and quickly rinsed her hair. When she finally felt clean she turned off the faucet and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, reveling in its comforting warmth.

"Hurry," she heard Alucard nag again, startling her out of her daze.

She reached for the shirt he had picked out and gave it a scrutinizing look. It was cut like a peasant shirt, with intricately embroidered flowers delineating the set of the blouse in subtle red guidelines. Wrinkling her nose in annoyance, she set about pulling the blasted blouse on over her head. It fell around her in close-fitting folds, ending slightly past her waist. The sleeves widened out and ended in tapered points, giving her hands an angular cast and making her feel like she'd stepped back into the renaissance era. The charcoal colored pants she'd picked out were much more practical, and she cursed Alucard for having such opulent taste in women's shirts.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the clothes fit her fairly well—she hadn't had a chance to try them on in the store, thanks to Alucard—and turned around when she was finished dressing to peer intently at herself in the mirror.

It was the first good look in a decent mirror that she'd managed to get of herself; her hair was painfully short and roughly edged in a more youthful fashion than she would have liked—the best Alucard could do with Swiss Army knife scissors, she supposed. Already the ends were beginning to dry, making her hair flair out at the ends in uneven lengths.

Sighing again, she turned and opened the door back into the bedroom.

Alucard was standing at the window, one hand shoved into the pocket of plain black pants. His other hand secured a black coat that he'd slung over one shoulder, partially obscuring the crisp grey shirt he was wearing.

And he'd criticized Integra for her gradient-esque color choices.

He turned, sensing her gaze, and smiled appreciatively. "Romanian garb suits you," he remarked, stepping over to finger the material of her shirt thoughtfully. His hand moved to the small of her back as he guided her out of the room. "We've survived three attempts on our lives," he said, locking the door behind them. "I believe some wine, and some dinner for you, are in order."

--

The nearest restaurant that looked touristy enough to be bilingual was a cheery little pub, although it was on the small side and consequently quite crowded. Alucard had to duck through the aged wooden doorframe to enter, so it was with smug amusement that Integra, nearly a head shorter, breezed past him with ease and settled herself at an empty table. Alucard followed more slowly, avoiding the low ceiling beams, and sat across from her.

"Two glasses of wine," Alucard briskly told the waiter who came to take their order. "Red," he clarified simply at the waiter's questioning look.

"What kind, specifically?" the waiter asked hesitantly.

"Surprise us," Alucard replied dismissively, fixing his most menacing glare on the waiter. "Pleasantly…surprise us."

"Certainly, sir," the waiter said morosely, drifting away and looking upset that he'd been robbed of an exact errand to complete.

Integra waited until their server had walked away before speaking up again. "Don't terrorize the populace," she admonished in a hiss.

"That wasn't terrorizing," Alucard replied mildly. "If you want to see terrorizing—"

"Fine, fine," she cut in quickly, before catching sight of a dinner menu the waiter had timidly nudged onto the corner of the table before leaving. "Hmm," she mused thoughtfully, scanning over her options. Some of the menu was only in Romanian, but she sort of got the gist of the kinds of foods offered. She narrowed her choices down to three possibilities before turning to Alucard for clarification.

"What's this mean?" she asked, holding out the menu for Alucard to see to avoid mangling the language with her pronunciation.

"Morcovi?" Alucard read. "Carrots. Get that, it'll help your eyesight."

"I don't want carrots," Integra muttered stubbornly, affronted by his comment. "What's this?" she asked, pointing out another word.

"Potatoes," Alucard told her. "What you're looking at is stew," he informed her with amusement after a brief pause. "Carrots, potatoes, beef, mushrooms and onions."

"Oh," she said in disappointment. She'd had it tentatively pegged as a salad. "Well…that sounds good," she said reluctantly.

"Your wine, sir," the waiter announced, reappearing with a small tray upon which two glasses of wine were precariously balanced.

"Thank you," Alucard said charmingly, catching Integra's eye in search of approval. "We're ready to order as well," he added, when she remained stoically expressionless.

"Yes," Integra began, seeing the waiter's expectant look, "I'll have the…stew."

"And for you?" the waiter inquired, pen poised over a small notepad.

"I'm fine, thank you," Alucard said tersely, reaching for his glass of wine.

The waiter nodded as if that were perfectly normal. "I bring your stew over soon," he promised Integra, before running off to another table.

Alucard absently swirled his wine glass and Integra stared at it, mesmerized by the faintly glowing crimson depths. Alucard's eyes were glowing the same rich, multifaceted wine color. As she reached for her own glass of wine, she wondered if this were a trick of the light or if drinking wine actually had an effect on his eye color. Then she wondered why she was wondering such dumb thoughts.

"Furculita," Alucard said, tapping the fork next to Integra.

"Foor-koo-leet-sa," she repeated in disjointed sections. "That is so much more complicated than 'fork'."

Alucard shrugged. "Lingura," he murmured softly, pointing to Integra's spoon. She wondered how it was possible to make the word for 'spoon' sound so sultry.

"Interesting," she murmured back uncomfortably. Alucard was clearly stalling. "You said there were things I needed to know," she said, effectively ending his language lesson.

"Oh yes," he said. "The man who accosted us in the store was indeed an agent of our nemesis. He was, however, a lower level official, making him next to useless in uncovering the identity of our primary target." He paused when the waiter drew near with Integra's stew and waited until he had set it down and left before continuing. "Whoever our friend is, he's very organized. A very neat monster, if you will."

Integra slurped a spoonful—lingura-ful, she corrected herself amusedly—of stew, savoring the rich earthy taste of the two dominant flavors: potatoes and beef. "What in particular makes you think that?" she inquired, spearing a mushroom with her fork.

"His underlings are divided into four levels," Alucard explained after a pause, as if he were consulting his most recent victim's soul for verification. Perhaps he was. "Until recently, it was just three. Himself as the highest level, of course, followed by a small group of individuals he personally changed into vampires. They're his…generals. He refers to them as the guardians. That's 'eforie', in Romanian." The next level down is comprised of vampires changed by the drug, but a much stronger dosage of it and in less time. They're the spy network."

"You said there was a fourth level," Integra prompted.

"Everyone changed by the drug in the general population," Alucard replied. "He is building up an army to take over Romania. He wants to lead Romania into a new age of immortality and invincibility."

Integra choked on a piece of potato. "A nation of nosferatu?" she summed up with alarm before breaking into another coughing fit.

"Oh yes," Alucard nodded, "and as far as I can tell, so far he is succeeding." He pushed Integra's glass of wine into her hand. "To clear your throat," he suggested mildly, looking slightly amused at her reaction to his news.

Integra sipped the wine gratefully and took a deep breath. "And what level was our attacker in the shop?" she asked.

"Level three," Alucard answered promptly. "There are probably a handful of them in every city. I expect our nemesis is hoping to ultimately create a state of panic and chaos once his drug is firmly entrenched within the populace." He took a sip of his wine and closed his eyes to savor it more fully. "I suspect he also has a modicum of control over every person he's turned, both directly and through the drug, just as other vampires maintain control over their ghouls."

Integra looked up from her bowl and frowned. "The changed drug users are more like ghouls?" she asked.

Alucard frowned. "Not really," he answered. "They're still vampires in every way, they're just not entirely independent. Our nemesis can probably access them mentally and control them that way." He broke off with a thoughtful look on his face. "It's not that unbelievable, actually," he murmured. "Quite possible, in the scheme of things."

Integra privately wondered if she should start worrying about Seras' mental independence. "How long does it take for a regular drug user to change into a vampire?" she asked out loud.

"Roughly ten doses, depending on the individual body's natural defenses," Alucard replied. "So about ten days, probably," he estimated. "The changes are so gradual they don't really notice…and if they do, it's so addictive they can't stop."

Integra made a face and finished her wine just as the waiter reappeared and collected their empty glasses and Integra's empty stew bowl. "Will you be wanting dessert?" he asked.

"No thank you," Integra declined. "We'll have our check, however."

"Certainly," the waiter said, handing them the bill.

Alucard took it from him, scanning it quickly, and placed some lei on top of it. "Let's go," he murmured to his master, standing up. He turned to the waiter. "The wine was delicious. Excellent choice," he complimented.

They left the table and navigated their way through the night crowd out of the pub into the fresh night air. "What a stifling atmosphere," Alucard muttered, nodding towards the pub. "Did you enjoy the wine?" he asked Integra, falling into step beside her as they walked.

"Yes, very much," Integra answered through the chattering of her teeth. The evening had made the temperature much colder, and she hadn't brought a coat.

"Here," Alucard said softly, taking off his coat. He draped it over Integra's shoulders and pulled the ends close around her.

"Thank you," she said with a warm feeling. Alucard was being thoughtful again.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. "It never fails to astound me," he finally spoke up.

Integra turned and graced him with an inquiring glance. "What?" she asked.

"How nearsighted they always are," he answered vaguely. "Mass-producing vampires...won't they ever learn? We'd run out of humans if I weren't around to stop their little science projects."

"You learned from your mistakes," Integra replied practically. "We just don't let them have a chance to learn from theirs."

"How true," Alucard remarked as they entered the inn. The innkeeper gave them a friendly wave, which Integra returned with a smile before following Alucard down a hallway towards their room.

She collapsed into the chair by the desk and closed her eyes, her exhaustion finally catching up with her. They had walked an obscene amount of kilometers just to get to Cimpulung, then they'd gone shopping, and finally they'd walked to and from dinner. There was only so much she could handle in one day.

"How was your stew?" Alucard inquired suddenly.

Integra didn't bother opening her eyes to answer. "Delicious," she said, sensing movement from Alucard.

Her eyes flew open when she felt a light touch on her shoulder. "What—" she began, turning her head to see that Alucard was right next to her.

"I need a favor," he asked calmly, looking away, but Integra still caught the glimmer of otherness in his eyes that so firmly set Alucard apart from being anything close to human.

She stared at him with dawning comprehension. "You need—"

"Yes," Alucard breathed. "I do."

Integra hesitated.

"It's either you or some innocent Romanian native," he pointed out, catching her eye.

Integra sighed. "You can't always win by making me out to be a martyr," she said.

"I'm stating a fact," Alucard corrected, "while I'm still capable of speech."

"But you drank that vampire's blood today," Integra protested in confusion.

"Not nutritious," Alucard replied levelly. "Do you want me to maul you?" he snarled, suddenly violent.

Integra looked at him pensively, aware that he had not drunk blood since before they'd left England, and had since exhausted quite a bit of energy, in some cases to save her life. "Fine," she agreed wearily. "Where?" she asked, standing.

"Neck," Alucard requested, calming down a bit with the knowledge that he had permission to feed. "Please," he added politely.

Integra tugged the edge of her shirt's neckline down a bit and angled her neck obligingly.

Alucard wasted no time stepping forward and gripping her shoulders with both hands. Tilting his head to the side, he fastened his teeth over her jugular with frighteningly practiced ease and sank his teeth in.

Integra hissed slightly at the pain and felt her heart rate involuntarily speed up. Apparently Alucard felt it too, for he clung more tightly to her and drew blood more deeply from her neck.

"Alucard," she muttered after a pause, realizing it wasn't just exhaustion that was making her feel increasingly dizzy. If Alucard weren't holding her so close, shewas fairly sure she would stagger. "Alucard," she said again, but he paid her no mind, instead latching on more securely to her neck. Integra thought she felt her heartbeat flutter and began to panic. "Stop," she whispered, sagging against him weakly.

She felt him still. "Master?" his voice echoed from somewhere above her. "Master?" she heard again. She felt strong arms effortlessly scoop her up and lay her gently down on the bed. She opened her eyes with difficulty and saw Alucard bending over her with a look of tightly repressed panic on his face. "I didn't mean to—"

"I know," she murmured wearily, feeling like she was sinking down into the mattress. She couldn't recall ever feeling this lightheaded before. "Just let me…" she closed her eyes momentarily, only to unintentionally slip into unconsciousness.

"…sleep," Alucard finished for her, allowing his guilt to show more now that she couldn't see him. He brushed her hair out of her face and double-checked her neck to make sure it had completely clotted.

Breathing a sigh of relief when he saw his bite marks on her neck were nearly healed, he gently rearranged his master so that the thick wool blanket covered her sleeping form.

Alucard indulged in a small yawn and stretched out on the bed alongside Integra, trying hard not to think about the rush of pleasure he'd felt when he'd sensed the falter in her heartbeat, knowing that if he'd continued drinking her blood, he would have completely consumed that spark of life and stopped her heart from beating forever. And then…he could have changed her…

More's the pity, he mused, that her orders and the restrictions of their bond had prevented him from doing so. He tried to convince himself that it hadn't been anything more than that that had stopped him from taking her life.

"Lesson…three," he whispered lazily, pushing his inner turmoil to the back of his mind in favor of teaching Romanian to his unresponsive master, "îmi pare rau. I am sorry."

He hoped that was enough to assuage what he supposed was his conscience.

--

**Shameful admissions part deux:**

**-"predatorial" appears to not actually be a word.**

**- "eforie" is from an online translator. I hate those, and I'm really sorry I had to resort to one.**

**-Rampant POV change: Eternal apologies, I can't help myself. It's the cross I have to bear. Even more sad than shaky pov is that school started three days ago. Only one more year of this hell, then I have to go through four more! Cue seppuku.**

**Sorry this is later than usual.**


	5. Delicious Tea that I Made for Thee

**A/N: Have you ever been betrayed by raspberries? I have. The little buggers poisoned me, rendering me feverish for a day or so. During that day or so, I wrote some of this chapter (you've been warned). In other news, David Bowie's in season four of Doctor Who! Isn't that something! You know, I feel like no one else in this fandom watches that show.**

**Chapter five: Tending to Tasty Tea Takes Time, then Trains to Tirgoviste Transpire**

Integra's return to consciousness was marked by the odd sensations of heaviness, utter exhaustion, and pain throughout her body. She spent an indeterminate amount of time trying to sort through her befuddled thoughts, and justified this waste of time by acknowledging that her eyelids were too heavy to open.

In the midst of pondering the likelihood that she had perhaps hit by a train, she heard a faint clink of china and twitched in recognition of the sound.

It was a unique clink, one that could only be made by a cup being set down in a saucer. The forcefulness of the clink told her, from years of being exposed to such a sound, that the cup was filled to the brim with a hot, thin liquid, and that someone had set it down a bit sharply because they had not initially been aware of how heavy it was.

Integra wet her lips, the first movement she had attempted since waking up. When this action proved relatively painless, she decided to chance talking, for her vampire was obviously up to something.

"Aaah," she began tentatively, with moderately painless results. "Looo," she persevered, after she had paused to recuperate from twinges in her vocal chords. "…card," she finished firmly, feeling immensely pleased with her success.

"Ah," Alucard's silky baritone voice filtered through her ears. "Buna ziua, floricica mea."

Integra let the words wash over her, not even bothering to try and figure out their meanings. "You," she said forcefully, wishing she had better control over her vocal chords. Her throat was beginning to really hurt. She let her mind drift back to the events from the night before and she sighed as her memories came back full force, realizing such pain was inevitable.

"…Yes?" Alucard prompted. Integra could clearly hear the wariness in his voice and wondered what he was thinking.

"You…made me…" Integra tried again, already feeling exhausted.

There was a longer pause. "I made you…?" Alucard repeated softly, sounding vaguely curious and perhaps a bit meek.

"Tea," She finished, unsure of Alucard's feelings on the matter. "You made me tea!"

She barely heard his laugh. "You never cease to amaze me," he murmured. "Clearly I was in error to have teased you about not being able to hear well."

"Hah," she dismissed bitterly in a wheeze. "Why am I…?" she began curiously, before lethargy swallowed the rest of her sentence. As she was in pain, unable to move, and exhausted simply from speaking—she hoped Alucard got the idea from what she'd been able to voice. Although she found it hard to imagine that him feeding on her would have such drastic physical aftereffects on her.

"You are recovering from a very traumatic experience," he informed her.

"Which was?" she asked, hearing footsteps coming towards her and something being set down on the nightstand beside the bed. The comforting smell of tea soon reached her nose and she felt immeasurably better just from the aroma.

"Me," Alucard answered simply.

"Aren't I always," she sighed in a steadier voice, the scent of tea invigorating her. So it had been solely Alucard's doing. Hands propped her up into a sitting position with pillows bracing her back. When she was finally comfortable, she opened her eyes for the first time and saw Alucard looking back at her.

He looked so much better than when she had last seen him—younger, livelier, his eyes bright—and Integra was suddenly quite glad she had given him her blood.

Alucard pressed the cup of tea into her hands. "Blackberry sage," he told her, watching as she breathed in the herbal fumes.

"Smells delicious," she murmured, cupping the tea almost reverently. Raising the mug to her lips, she took a tentative first sip and let the hot rich liquid roll over her tongue.

"I'm guessing it tastes delicious too?" Alucard purred into her ear, interrupting her fleeting moment of bliss. "Does it make my master happy?" he continued murmuring impishly.

Integra's carefully constructed poise snapped at his mocking tone. "Please refrain from cooing into my ear while I am trying to savor a much-anticipated reunion with tea," she groaned.

She took another sip, marveling at the taste. "Where did you get it?" she asked more calmly, quite sure she could feel the tea rejuvenating her. _And why did he bother?_ she wondered silently.

"The innkeeper recommended a little café," Alucard answered. "And then lent me the necessary dishware."

"Thank you," Integra said, looking genuinely grateful.

"There is also some toast for you," he continued, gesturing to the tray, which Integra now saw included jam and butter as well.

She blinked in surprise. This was going over the top, especially for Alucard. "What's the occasion?" She asked warily.

Alucard gave her an inscrutable look. "You need your strength," he explained mildly, buttering her toast for her. "Would you prefer blackberry or apricot jam?"

"Apricot, please," She replied with a sigh.

She watched as he dutifully spread apricot jam on her toast and handed it to her. "I hope this isn't hard to chew," he said.

"Shouldn't be," Integra muttered, shooting another discreet look at him. He kept switching between avoiding her gaze and briefly looking at her.

As she bit into her toast, it suddenly hit her that perhaps Alucard felt guilty about losing control the night before…and that maybe he thought she thought less of him for not being able to control his instincts. "Alucard," she spoke up again after swallowing her mouthful of toast. "I don't fault you for losing control last night. You were extremely tired and…hungry."

"I realize this," Alucard said suavely. "And apologize profusely for my lack of restraint." He met her surprised gaze head on and smiled. "Finish your toast as quickly as you can. I've bought us tickets for the 4:10 train to Tîrgoviste. If you want to get cleaned up and dressed before we leave, you have an hour."

"I slept that long?" Integra exclaimed, not liking the accompanying sickening jolt of disorientation that had become increasingly familiar over the last few days.

"Recuperative sleep," Alucard said with a shrug. "We all need it."

"Are you sure we're quite done here in Cîmpulung?" Integra inquired doubtfully. "That vampire yesterday—"

"He was the only one in this particular city," Alucard cut in swiftly, giving her a reassuring look. "Our mysterious nemesis is based in Tîrgoviste."

Integra started. "You didn't tell me that yesterday," she said accusingly.

He blinked at her serenely. "Yesterday…I was not in the most coherent state of mind," he defended with a shrug.

Integra silently agreed. "I'm glad you feel better," she said softly.

Alucard refilled her cup of tea. "Hellsing blood always did invigorate me at a much higher level than normal human blood," he said blithely. "Hopefully the side effects of my feeding will not inhibit you for too long. We'll have to be able to stay on our toes in the lair of the beast."

"Tirgoviste…?" Integra clarified tentatively, cupping her tea mug tightly in both hands to warm her skin.

"Used to be my lair," Alucard said wistfully. He stood, allowing Integra to catch the first clear glimpse of his outfit for the day. Dressed entirely in a black suit, his sleek, trim appearance oozed a lethal aura.

"You look like a…" she paused to rack her brains for an accurate comparison. "I don't even know," she muttered. "An assassin."

"How apt," he replied silkily. "Perhaps," he mused, "you ought to wear something relatively demure to counteract my imposing image."

"I'll try my best," Integra muttered. She placed her teacup and empty plate on the tray and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. In one quick move, she tried to get to her feet—and felt her legs give way.

Alucard caught her before she could hit the ground—another increasingly familiar situation—and stood up, holding her close. "We may have to reschedule our train ride if you can't even walk," he remarked scornfully.

"This is your fault," Integra snapped, frustrated that she couldn't even walk, as Alucard had so helpfully pointed out. Her breathing felt harsher as a sudden bout of vertigo struck and she could only think of how lovely it would be to collapse on the bed. With Alucard holding her, she settled for sagging against him. This was something she had been hoping to avoid at all costs, but the alternative was literally passing out in his arms.

"Perhaps we…should reschedule," she admitted in a small voice, fully aware of Alucard's silence.

With both arms supporting her, he helped her to the single chair in the room. He held her head steady with one hand and raised the nearly empty cup of tea to her lips with the other. Integra obediently sipped it. It was lukewarm and strong, but it helped alleviate her dizziness and cleared her head. She slumped in the chair after she'd finished drinking the tea and felt absolutely pathetic.

Alucard set the cup down and kneeled in front of her. "Master," he said levelly. "I am tired as well. We can stay another day."

"Every day we waste renders more people victims to the drug," she murmured guiltily.

"If we attempt to take on a thoroughly entrenched vampire assembly line organization when we are not at full strength, chances are that that would set us back even further," Alucard pointed out. "So I am going to go to sleep right now. You may do whatever you wish. Wake me up when the sun sets if I don't on my own."

"Alright," Integra reluctantly promised.

She watched him leap on to the bed in one fluid motion and land gracefully in a sideways recline. "There are cigars for you on top of the briefcase," he imparted to her in a voice rough with drowsiness, before going completely still.

Knowing he would be unresponsive to her startled thank you, she concentrated on formulating a plan of action. Taking a shower was imperative, of course, then choosing a—what had Alucard said—'demure outfit' was the logical step from there. After that, she would indulge in a cigar or three, see if Lukyanenko had any news, and take a nap.

It sounded like a really great plan, so Integra was left only to ponder why Alucard had gone through the trouble of facilitating the habit of hers that he most detested.

Like everything else about him, she couldn't think of a plausible explanation.

--

One shower and two outfits later, Integra returned to her chair in light grey pants and a blue shirt that was uncannily similar to her eye color. Alucard had picked it out, of course. And as he was still very much dead to the world, all she had for company was a full pack of cigars.

She remedied the latter situation quickly, extracting a cigar from the pack and lighting it slowly. Giving in to her greatest fault, Alucard would say, but nothing could compare to the calming feeling of inhaling what she had been deprived of for over two days in a high-stress situation.

She wondered if this was how Alucard had felt when he'd fed from her the night before. He certainly looked much better than she could ever recall seeing him. That was probably due to the potency of her Hellsing blood—or so he had claimed before lapsing into corpse mode. Or perhaps she'd just never bothered to notice such details about him before.

But he had known that bringing her tea and cigars would do more to help her recover than any sort of normally accepted treatments for blood loss and exhaustion.

Now, however, he was taking up almost all of the bed, barring her from fulfilling her plan to take a nap.

That just would not do.

She drew in one more puff of her cigar before crushing the end into ash against the saucer of her teacup.

Frowning, she took off her glasses and drifted quietly towards the foot of the bed. If she could inch her way up the bed against the wall, she could probably lie down without disturbing him. She managed to reach her pillow in this manner and carefully slid down to lie on top of the mattress. She didn't even try to lift the covers; Alucard's weight had them pinned down rather securely.

Still eyeing Alucard's prone form, she gingerly turned away from him and closed her eyes, noting with a sinking feeling that the sun was setting.

Like clockwork, she felt Alucard stir from beside her and then roll over towards her, emitting a soft, drowsy noise similar to "murrrr," as he curled one arm around her waist and fitted his chin neatly over her shoulder.

Integra stiffened. Alucard was subconsciously spooning.

"Wake up," she said coldly, prodding at him.

"Ce curu' meu vrei?" he muttered fretfully.

"No no no," Integra said firmly, "You've had your nap. If you don't get up right now, I'll push you off the bed myself."

He didn't move.

Feeling that she had given him fair warning, she turned to face him and shoved. It must have been a bit more forceful than she intended, for Alucard toppled off the bed on to the floor, effectively fully waking him. He sat up quickly in an effort to regain his dignity and gave her a reproachful look. "Clearly I must keep an eye on you if you're going to make a habit of shoving me around," he said irritably, looking miffed.

"You were keeping more than an eye on me," Integra retorted reprovingly.

"You're lucky I didn't bite you," he said more calmly. "What with sneaking into bed while I was dreaming of delicious humans."

"Spare me your sordid fantasies," Integra said dryly, absently wondering if there had been any humans in particular in his dreams.

He fixed her with a steely gaze. "That was still uncalled for," he said.

"Remember that time when I was trying to sleep on a jet and you shoved me out of my seat?" she asked without remorse.

"Nuu," Alucard replied in a drawn-out, accented murmur. He regarded her with narrowed eyes and yawned. "You've had your revenge," he continued magnanimously. "Now let's see about getting the last train out of Cimpulung tonight."

Integra blinked. "Tonight?" she asked contemplatively, before shrugging. "All right," she agreed after a pause. "I've charged the computer fully," she added, "so we can get more news from Lukyanenko, er, on the way."

"Fine," he shrugged. He reached out to the table and grabbed Integra's pack of cigars. "I'll keep these as punishment for shoving me off the bed," he said offhandedly.

Integra's eyes widened. "What! You can't—"

"Let's check out," he continued, cutting her off and pocketing her cigars in his inside coat pocket.

Integra stared at him resignedly, knowing it was futile to try and get them back by force and that there was no way she would reduce herself to begging for them verbally. With a mournful sigh, she packed up the computer and a few clothes into the briefcase, then put what remained into one of the shopping bags.

"Ready?" her sum of all torments asked, leaning against the doorframe and looking bored.

"Yes," she answered with another sigh, which quickly became a yawn.

"Good," he said simply, turning swiftly out of the room and stalking down the corridor to the inn entryway.

"Do we have to pay again?" Integra asked.

"No, we only stayed one night and I tipped him this afternoon for the breakfast advice," Alucard replied. He dropped the key on the innkeeper's vacant desk and strode towards the exit.

Integra followed, vaguely aware that they were getting a few stares as they walked down the street. It was either because Alucard was exuding confidence, intoxicating danger, or both in his demeanor and his leisurely, calculated stroll.

"Take it down a notch, will you?" she hissed, stepping up her pace to keep alongside him.

"Nothing wrong with a little presence," Alucard defended, but he relented—slightly—after prolonged exposure to his master's icy glare.

It occurred to Integra that perhaps Alucard was enjoying his return to Romania a little more than he ought.

And as the train station came into view, something else occurred to her. "Shouldn't we think of fake names or something?" she asked.

"Mmm," Alucard grunted.

Integra frowned as she gave her own question more thought. "What did you sign us in as at the innkeeper's registrar?" she asked.

Alucard gave an impressive yawn. "I told him that we were Mr. and Mrs. Dracula," he answered absently.

Integra gave him a sharp look. After the stunt he'd pulled in the clothes shop…

Alucard lolled his head over in her direction, giving her full view of his incredulous expression. "I _sincerely_ hope you didn't honestly believe that," he remarked dryly. "I would lose my faith in your ability to execute this mission."

Integra thinned her lips. "Since we arrived, you've racked up quite a history of indiscretion," she pointed out cuttingly.

Alucard blinked demurely. "I said we were British tourists on holiday. Cîmpulung is a popular summer vacation spot, you know." He stopped walking to take a look at the train schedule board posted above their heads.

"But it's nearly winter," Integra pointed out. "No names?"

"Alastair and Romana Holmes ," Alucard replied simply.

"'Romana'?" Integra inquired distastefully.

Alucard fished some money out of his pockets and headed towards the nearest ticket booth. "Sorry, had Romania on my mind," he apologized absently.

"Holmes?" Integra demanded more dubiously.

"Well, we _are_ playing detective," he muttered defensively. "Besides, it was the only British name I could think of on the spot."

"Really?" Integra queried with mock surprise. "I'm sure I think of a few off the top of my head—Harker, for instance, and Holmwood, and Seward—"

"A trivial point," he interrupted through gritted teeth. He stepped away from her to talk to the ticketing office and gave clerk an appreciative look when she handed him two tickets and waived payment.

"News travels fast, I see," Integra muttered ruefully, noting this interaction with unease.

Alucard heard her remark and turned back to face her, handing her a ticket. "So should we," he said mildly. "Our train leaves in five minutes. I hope you've regained your strength."

"Don't worry about me," Integra said dismissively.

She began to regret her words when she soon found it harder to keep up with Alucard than she had originally anticipated.

When she had to stop to catch her breath, she saw Alucard look as though he were about to say something, only to stare intently at her in silence instead.

When she'd replenished her oxygen supply to her satisfaction, she felt Alucard's arm unexpectedly curl around her shoulder.

He shrugged at the startled look she gave him. "As a man and a woman in each other's company, there are certain mannerisms to uphold if we wish to appear normal," he explained.

Integra relaxed with difficulty and tried to think of his contact as soothing. Given all that he had done for her in the past two days alone, it was easier than she realized to lapse into the rhythm of his step. She concentrated on keeping up until they got on to the train, then found the nearest empty compartment and collapsed onto a seat.

Alucard took the seat across from her in a more relaxed manner and leaned sideways against the window so that he could stretch his legs out over the seat.

Integra, who was already feeling quite drained again, jolted awake from her doze when the train began to move.

"Tren," Alucard spoke up after they'd gotten used to the roar of the train. "Trenul. The train."

"Alucard, I'm much too tired for language lessons," she protested, feeling her eyes glaze over with the onslaught of scenery rushing past her from outside the train window.

"Sunt obosita," Alucard said helpfully. "I'm tired."

"You are so maddening," she sighed. "Can I have my cigars back?"

"If you pronounce 'I am tired' in Romanian correctly, then yes," Alucard replied agreeably.

Integra gritted her teeth. "Soont ohbahsita," she repeated grudgingly.

He tilted his head. "Close, but no cigar," he told her regretfully, smiling when she winced. "Oh-boh-sita. Why don't you take a nap if you're so exhausted?"

She gave him a foul glare. "I don't even understand why you bought me those cigars in the first place if you were just going to take them away from me again," she said mournfully. "And yes, I will certainly take a nap, as I was robbed of a bed earlier."

"I believe you were the one doing the robbing," Alucard corrected dryly.

She opened her mouth to retort, but thought the better of it. "I'm too tired to argue over this," she murmured softly.

"Noapte bune," Alucard bid her good night, throwing her his hat as a cushion.

Integra smiled her thanks and set the hat between her head and the window. "Perhaps this time around we won't get bombed," she muttered hopefully, before drifting off against the windowpane.

--

Integra woke up to see that she was alone in the compartment. Cold, irrational panic accompanied this realization, along with the fear that Alucard had abandoned her. Just as she was about to get up and search the train, her vampire reemerged from the door to the corridor with a chocolate bar in his hand.

"The one thing the Swiss can do well is make chocolate," he said by way of greeting. "Uppity pacifists, the lot of them, of course, but the chocolate…"

He broke off a piece and handed it to her. "A midnight snack," he explained.

Integra accepted it warily and frowned. "How did you get this?" she asked suspiciously.

Alucard shot her an exasperated look. "Legitimately," he said succinctly. He paused and looked out the window almost longingly. "I think Tîrgoviste is the next stop."

Integra blinked the sleep out of her eyes and stretched. "How long have we been traveling?" she asked.

"A while," he replied unhelpfully.

Integra eyed him suspiciously. "What have you been up to?" she pressed.

He shrugged. "Oh, this and that. You didn't seem to like your new name, so I amused myself by rearranging the letters of your real name to get a new one." He paused to stroke his chin. "Funny, all I could come up with was 'Ingrate'."

Integra blinked. He was giving her a pointed look. "Oh," she said faintly. "Err…thank you for the chocolate?" she tried.

"That's better," Alucard purred, giving her a feral grin. "And maybe a thank you for realizing that we would need false names a full day before you did."

Integra wrinkled her nose. "Perhaps…if you give me back my cigars," she bargained.

Alucard hesitated momentarily before reaching inside his coat pocket and tossing the pack at her.

"Thank you," she said dutifully. "For the cigars. And for thinking ahead about the names, even though they were absolutely awful."

Alucard gave her a baleful glare. "Cu placere," he said tonelessly. He looked at the chocolate in his hand. "Ciocolata," he sighed.

She took the rest of the chocolate from him and smiled. "It really is good chocolate," she told him. "Too bad you can't have any."

She watched his face fall. "I can smell," he compensated, leaning in close to her and inhaling. "That's good enough for me. For now."

He pulled away, leaving Integra frozen and furiously pondering the ambiguity of that statement.

The train jerked to a halt as the announcer yelled out "Tirgoviste!" giving the pair their cue to exit the train.

"Well, here we are," Alucard murmured breezily as they stepped off the train. He turned and helped Integra down, taking the briefcase from her and flashing a winsome smile. "Welcome to Tîrgoviste."

--

**I believe I told some reviewers that this chapter would be up on Sunday. This is interesting because it is now Friday and I'm just now posting. I could list everyone who is to blame, but that would be difficult because some of them are unnameable, microscopic and viral. However, I will do my best:**

**1). MY BETA ANNIE. God loves timely and efficient betas. He does not love her. Actually, this isn't entirely fair, she had loads of homework this week. This brings me to…**

**2). SCHOOL. What's up with me having to attend that.**

**3). The flu or some such thing. I'm always the flu trendsetter. You'll see, soon everyone will be following my lead.**

**4). Good ol' writer's block. We've become the best of friends these days.**

**That said, I'm decidedly shaky about this chapter because as I was writing it I felt like every word was being forced out like a…simile. Thus the primary reason for the delay. Imi pare rau.**


	6. Serious Business

**(A/N): For once, I have absolutely nothing to say.**

**Chapter Six: Lifeless Lunatics Listlessly Loom, Legitimizing Lunges**

Alucard took in the silent night air and the peacefulness of the street that lay before them and felt disappointment wash over him. Being back in Tirgoviste after a five hundred-year absence was like slipping back into an old favorite coat and finding it didn't quite fit anymore.

Despite the normalcy of the quiet, empty street lined with rows of shuttered buildings and parked cars, there was an aura of malevolence that had not been present in Cîmpulung that was pervading Tîrgoviste like an unpleasant smell, and both Alucard and Integra could feel it.

"We're in enemy territory now," Alucard muttered, looking slightly pained.

"Oh?" Integra asked more irritably, chewing on her last piece of chocolate. "What clued you in, the missile that shot down our jet? The men who attacked us in the rubble? Or might it have been the vampire who lunged at you in the shop?"

"No need to be snippy," he said calmly, reassuming his normal expression of mild scorn. "You know what I meant." He led the way out of the station without looking back, trusting Integra to follow him.

"Do you have any idea where we're going, Alucard?" Integra asked, walking after him towards a deserted street corner.

"Alastair," he reminded her sternly.

"Where's tha—oh, it's your name, right," she interrupted herself, but not before giving Alucard ample reason to laugh quietly from in front of her. "You didn't answer my question," she sighed, trying not to let him get to her. "Alastair," she prompted through gritted teeth.

"Quiet, Romana," Alucard hissed, coming to a halt. She watched him reach into his coat pocket and pull out a gun.

Her gun, in fact.

When had he—?

"Here," he murmured, "take your gun and keep it on you. Tirgoviste will probably have maintained its penchant for deadliness over the years."

"Thank you," Integra said politely, accepting her gun from him without missing a beat, even though she was quite shaken by the fact that she had not noted its absence. She scrutinized Alucard carefully and narrowed her eyes. "I trust you have yours?" she asked.

"Yes, on me," he replied simply.

"I don't see how," she said doubtfully, noting his uniform clothing, which could not possibly hide large guns as successfully as his usual trench coat.

"It's a vampire…quirk," he answered with a languid shrug. "Sometimes there is no plausible 'how.'"

"Fabulous," Integra said crossly.

"Yes, I certainly enjoy it," Alucard smiled. "There are so many benefits as a vampire, you know. And if I were to change y—"

"No, no…and furthermore, no," Integra cut in swiftly. "Bring it up again, Alucard, and I will be sorely tempted to terminate both your service to me and your existence."

"It's 'Alastair'," Alucard corrected again. "And you wouldn't dare."

A surge of fury swept through Integra at this display of lazy arrogance. "What?" she asked coolly. "I wouldn't dare do what? Terminate your service or you?"

"Both," Alucard replied easily. "Not that you could terminate me, anyway."

Integra snapped. "God damn it, Alucard," she snarled, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying hard not to shake him. "Don't think that I'm not capable of defeating you just because I am a human and you are a vampire," she hissed with deadly calm, looking directly at him. "You seem to be under the impression that that difference would be a problem for me, were I to ever decide to kill you."

She paused for breath and fixed him with the most venomous glare she could muster. "Being my servant doesn't exempt you from behaving properly," she continued, "and if you _ever_ cross the line, keep in mind that I will be there to stop you. Permanently, if I must." She came to a halt in her tirade, noticing that she was gripping Alucard's shoulders so tightly that the whites of her knuckles were showing.

She opted not to do anything about that. "I cannot possibly begin to fathom why you keep trying my patience, or why you think it's a good idea to antagonize me, but if you insist on continuing, I'll…" she faltered, losing steam. "I'll do something absolutely awful to you."

Alucard didn't have the heart to criticize her weak finish. Throughout her rant he'd watched her in a sort of enraptured half-trance, and when she was done he blinked and gave her a small smile. "My dear master," he breathed, "there are few things you have ever said that have made me more pleased than I am right now."

Integra stared at him numbly, not sure why she was so surprised.

He raised his hands to cover her hands where they were still gripping his shoulders and gave her a questioning glance.

Integra automatically relaxed her grip and he gently pried her hands away.

"We should go," she said faintly, absently flexing her fingers.

"Absolutely," Alucard agreed, falling into step next to her. Even though Integra had chewed him out just moments ago, they managed to walk in companionable silence.

"Master?" he eventually broke the silence in a low voice.

"Yes?" Integra replied warily.

"Do try to remember that it's 'Alastair'," he murmured. "This was not necessarily the best time and place to cut me down to size."

Integra, who was still trying to collect her thoughts, frowned slightly. "Why do you say that?" she asked sharply.

"Well, for starters, we're being followed," he answered.

Integra blinked. "Don't you mean confronted?" she asked, nodding towards the two figures ahead outlined in the dim light of the street lamp above them. A quick look behind her confirmed Alucard's statement.

"Interesting," he said, stepping in front of her to shield her, only to remember that they were also being trailed from behind. More figures appeared to their left and right, making him realize that they were surrounded on all sides. Momentarily flummoxed, he tried moving to stand next to Integra, but neither side offered sufficient protection for her.

Exasperated by his actions, Integra finally turned and rearranged him so that they were back to back and felt his shoulders relax slightly against hers in recognition of the more secure defensive stance.

A quick look around them told Integra that seven people were confronting them. "Bloody hell," she swore in true British spirit.

"It will be," Alucard promised in true Alucard fashion. "Your orders, master?" he inquired in a dangerous purr, his voice somewhat breathless with anticipation.

"They are all…vampires?" Integra asked.

"In the barest sense of the term, yes," he answered scornfully.

Integra noted their curiously blank, animalistic stares under the illumination of the street lamplights and sighed.

She paused, suddenly sharply aware that something had changed between her and Alucard since she'd yelled at him, but then the encroaching ring of vampires forced her to realize that now was not a good time to analyze the dynamics of her relationship with her vampire. "Go ahead then. Annihilate them," she commanded.

Alucard immediately surged forward at her directive and viciously tore through the three vampires closest to them.

Not willing to let him have too much fun, Integra cocked her gun and put several bullets through two of the vampires from behind her. By the time she'd ensured their demise, Alucard had finished off the rest. The whole operation had ended in under a minute and as smoothly as if it had been rehearsed, giving Integra the absurd urge to give Alucard a high-five. She ruthlessly quelled it.

The sound of clapping echoing through the deserted street brought Integra back to reality and she instinctively stepped closer to Alucard's bloodstained form. "Just a few days in Romania and you're back to your old tricks," a new voice remarked. A young man materialized from the shadows and started heading towards them. "Killing your own people, that is," the newcomer clarified.

"It seems we've passed level one," Alucard murmured aside to Integra.

"This is not a game, Alastair," she murmured back, keeping her finger on the trigger of her gun. The man in front of them was unnerving in how lifeless he appeared, waxen and colorless, like glossy paper. He looked more like a doll than a human, or even a vampire. Integra had encountered ghouls with more life in them; only his ability of intelligent speech indicated he was anything more than a plastic figurine.

"And who might you be?" Alucard spoke up for their newest adversary to hear.

"I am Two," the man answered readily.

"Too good for a proper name?" Alucard asked impishly, making Integra roll her eyes. There were times for firing bad insults and times for firing bullets, and Alucard had apparently confused the two.

Two shook his head emotionlessly. "Only He can have a name," he answered. "When He has finished building the New Empire, everyone will know His name and He will rule in eternal glory."

Integra felt like they were speaking to a cross between a child, a religious zealot, and a parrot. "Mind telling us His name?" she asked impatiently.

Two's eyelids briefly fluttered. "There is no place for you in the New Empire," he said flatly. "You will never know the power of his name." He concluded his words by withdrawing a gun and holding it roughly level to Alucard's head.

Integra saw him pull the trigger and heard the crack of the gunshot. A cold spray of blood splashed across her face from her right where the bullet had obliterated Alucard's head.

Even with full knowledge that he was absolutely fine, Integra felt slightly sick watching him reel back with the force of the gunshot. However, more pressing concerns replaced her ill-founded worry when Two moved his gun to aim at her.

"You have moderately good aim," Alucard sort-of complimented Two, once he'd regenerated his mouth.

Two nearly dropped his gun in shock and looked at the approaching form of Alucard with wide eyes. "Impossible! You…that's…" he began, losing what little confidence he'd started out with. "Only He can do that," he finally whispered.

Integra was distracted by the most peculiar sensation of Alucard's blood leaving her face as he fully restructured himself.

"Obviously not," Alucard pointed out, stepping closer and blithely ignoring the gun pointed at his chest. "Nor is a silly little revolver going to stop me." He reached for the weapon and crushed it into a useless lump of metal with one hand.

"That isn't what he told me," Two said shakily, trapped in Alucard's murderous gaze. "He made us! The eforie! I cannot be killed! He said you wouldn't be—"

"I bet he told you a lot of things," Alucard interrupted in a purr, leaning close. "Why don't you tell me all about them after I kill you."

With that, he bent over the unfortunate eforie and drained him of his blood and soul.

Integra patiently waited for him to finish and raised an inquiring eyebrow when he finally stood.

Alucard caught her gaze and licked his lips clean. "One down, three to go," he informed her.

"That's hardly reassuring," she said critically.

"If they're all as useless as he is, I rather think it is," Alucard disagreed, looking extremely satisfied. "But I don't expect we can hope for that."

"Can I expect we'll be able to check into a hotel tonight?" Integra asked, looking at her watch. It was close to 1 a.m.

"Oh, we'll find somewhere, don't worry," Alucard assured her breezily.

Integra looked back at the bodies lying in the street and realized they were walking away from a mass murder scene of their own making. "Shouldn't we…" she began.

"I think we should leave it," Alucard said. "If Romanians don't know what's going on yet, this ought to wake them up. They can only delude themselves for so long."

"That's quite a wake up call," Integra murmured. The entire street corner was covered in blood, after all, and eight bodies in various bits and pieces were haphazardly strewn about.

"Mm, yes, sort of a…soirée du massacre," Alucard christened the scene.

There was a pause.

"That's not a real French phrase," Integra finally said.

Alucard looked at her appreciatively. "I'm surprised you managed to call me out on that on so little sleep," he remarked.

Integra sighed. "I'm always aware of when you're slaughtering something, Alucard, be it French or vampire."

"Touché," he grinned.

"Thank you," Integra said. "Now where's that hotel?"

"Unde e hotelul?" he translated.

"Unde e hotelul?" she repeated good-naturedly.

"This way," he guided, draping one arm over Integra's shoulders. "I can almost smell the complimentary shampoo from here."

--

The nearest hotel was small, but clean and, much to Integra's surprise, very much open for business.

"We get many late night travelers from the last of the trains," the clerk explained in accented English. "You two are probably our last for tonight, though." She handed a key to Integra and smiled comfortingly. "You look done in," she said sympathetically. "Room service can deliver breakfast in the morning whenever you wake up."

"Thank you," Integra said gratefully, whilst Alucard handed the clerk a ridiculous amount of lei.

"Yes, thank you," he repeated, flashing a smile. "We can find our way," he told her soothingly when she made a move to lead them out. "Good night."

"Oh, okay! Good night!" the clerk said cheerfully.

The walk to their room was uneventful, but upon opening the door, both Alucard and Integra dove for the bed and landed simultaneously with loud thumps.

Integra laughed softly at their twin intentions and sat up, leaning her back against the headboard and kicking off her shoes on to the floor. "What did Two have to say about our mysterious nemesis?" she asked as Alucard set the briefcase down.

"Oh, more details about his future plans, of course, and some major centers within the city where the drug Exhilaration is commonly passed around and used now," Alucard shrugged. "Our elusive friend does not make an identifiable appearance in Two's mind; it seems he's guarded about his identity even with his most trusted." He yawned, displaying his rows of jagged teeth, and stretched out more fully. "I'll tell more about what Two knows in excruciating detail tomorrow," he promised.

"That's fair," Integra agreed, feeling rather tired herself. She thought back to Two's final moments and gave Alucard a piercing look.

"What?" he asked.

"Why do you let yourself get shot?" she asked curiously. "You could just dodge the bullets if you wanted."

"It's that rush of delight I get watching them realize, after I regenerate, that I'm about to introduce them to a whole new world of—how do I put it delicately?—kicking their arse," Alucard replied breezily.

"That's not putting it delicately at all," Integra muttered.

"Well, pardon me for shocking your delicate sensitivities," Alucard murmured.

"You didn't really kick his arse much," she pointed out. "You just cut to the chase."

"I'll remedy that next time, sorry," he promised.

Integra shivered, partly out of exhaustion, and slipped down to recline on the bed.

Alucard followed suit. "War-weary already?" he guessed.

"Not really," she answered. "It's just…they found us so soon. We hadn't even been in the city ten minutes when they attacked. And there's an endless supply of them. They were Exhilaration addicts, weren't they, those seven?"

"They used to be," Alucard nodded. "Then they turned into vampires—if you could even call them that. And now they're dead."

"Well, I knew that last part," Integra reminded him tiredly. Realizing it was fairly cold, she sat up again and moved onto the pillow to fold back the covers. Lying back down, she rested her head against the pillow and watched as Alucard turned out the light.

"Good night," she murmured softly.

"Mm, yes," Alucard said absently. "Good night."

--

**A/N: (pulls blanket over head). Y/N?**


	7. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Seriously, you don't have to read the following bolded words.**

**A/N: Deep down I worried that this was going to happen—an appalling, three-month College Gap wherein I forewent any semblance of a life (contrary to popular belief, this DOES include writing fanfiction!! In my heart, at least) in order to finish applying to college (but did I finish? NO I DIDN'T). For my own peace of mind, allow me to fill you in on everything I've been doing instead of updating like I should have been.**

**IN OCTOBER, I traveled to Minnesota to visit some colleges, and discovered that there are indeed places where everyone looks like Integra. Weirded out by the overwhelmingly Aryan population, I returned home as soon as possible to good ol' Washington D.C. for a GEORGETOWN INTERVIEW AAAAAUGH. This did not go as well as planned, as you can tell by the capslock scream that prefaced this sentence. In addition, I had to prepare in great depth for the culminating exam of my high school career, which is essentially where a panel of teachers from the writing program I'm in interview me for fifteen minutes and decide whether or not I should pass the program I've poured my heart and soul into for the past three years. To pass this interview, you compile a portfolio of all of the work that you've done within the writing program and put it all in a big binder, then base your whole interview on a theme encompassing the highlights of your work. One also needs three advanced exhibitions: extensive projects of great magnitude that show initiative and other great qualities, completed independently of the program. Me being who I am, I did two out of three of those advanceds the night before my practice interview (the third I did the night before my REAL interview…). This made my practice interview stressful because I was operating on an hour of sleep. My real interview was a month ago yesterday, and for some reason or another I PASSSED!! YATTA!!**

…**ALSO IN NOVEMBER, I retook the SATs because I was self-conscious about my chances of getting into college. In case you're wondering, which you probably aren't, I improved my score by ten points!! Now I can definitely get into college.**

**I also wrote seven pages of this chapter and realized they were complete shit. This happened twice, except the second time I got to ten pages. Then I realized I had something called 'writer's block' and drowned in a pool of my own tears. Or was that because season two of heroes was getting so shitty? That's alright; Dexter S2 WON FOREVER. Let's continue talking about every television show I watch ever. 'Moonlight' is stealing my plotlines!! And is also a bad show. I don't know what that says about my writing creativity. Avatar S3 is grood, but how about nickelodeon's online store pulls its shit together and ships me a 16" Appa plushie BEFORE feb 8, 2008? Is that just not possible or something? Because that's what their site says.**

**Anyway, if you bothered to read that long list of excuses (no hat-and-clogs, we didn't…), you'll be glad to know that I had an epiphany: all of the above things that I am stressed about DON'T REALLY MATTER!! In the scheme of things, they aren't that important!!**

**But what is important is Hellsing. And you guys!! I don't think I've yet collectively thanked you all for your reviews and support, nor told you how much I appreciate it, so here I go:**

**Thank you for all your reviews and support. I appreciate it very much.**

…**THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE IS OVER A PAGE LONG!! NEW RECORD.**

**All right all right where did I leave off? Let's RECAP, since I haven't posted in three hundred years. So Alucard and Integra had just arrived at Tirgoviste and were accosted by what were essentially ghouls, and then they disposed of them and their puppeteer accordingly. Then they checked into a hotel and dreamt of happy things, like rivers of Hellsing blood and premium Ceylon tea. I wonder whose dreams were whose.**

**And this chapter is not betaed, because my beta hates me and has stopped returning my calls. I never see her anymore…it's like she's found better things to do than sit around and edit fanfic chapters for a fandom she doesn't even follow or something. Also, I hope your expectations for this chapter aren't sky-high, like a victorious return after having three months to write or something, because then I think I'll be letting you down and can I ever stop talking??**

**Chapter Seven: Furious Fugitives Flee From Fastidious Feds, Forgetting Foreigners are Forbidden. FUCK.  
**

Integra woke up rather disoriented with the gnawing sensation that something had slipped her mind…something important.

More pressing, however, was the other gnawing sensation—on her arm.

Well, perhaps 'gently chewing' was a more accurate description, she amended after some thought, but in the grand scheme of things, it was still somewhat worrisome.

"Alucard?" she hazarded a guess, opening her eyes. "Why are you gnawing on my arm?"

The gnawing paused and then the teeth detached from her arm. "No particular reason," she heard him reply from beside the bed. She heard more rustling and then his face swam into view. "Sleep well?" he asked cordially.

"I was," she replied with true early morning grouchiness.

He shrugged again. "It's just past dawn," he informed her in a more businesslike manner. "And I've set up the laptop. We could contact Lukyanenko if you like."

"I would like," Integra said in pleased tones, Alucard's unexpected efficiency and work ethic doing much to siphon away her bad mood. "He's there?"

"No…" he answered absently. "There's a message. An…email."

Integra immediately rolled out of the bed and groggily staggered over to lean over Alucard's shoulder. "What's it say?" she asked.

"See for your self…" he murmured.

_Sir Integra,_

_Having not heard from you in over 48 hours, I can only hope that you are alive and well. You may not be aware of this yet, but it is all over the international news—our agency heard about it early this morning. Romania has closed its doors to outsiders, cutting off all contact from outside its borders. There are rumors that someone is organizing a government overthrow. Tourists and other foreign individuals are being targeted and deported, so be on your guard if its not already too late._

_I've reason to believe there's a mole within my organization who may have somehow gained access to this account, so don't contact me through here again. In the lining of the briefcase flap you'll find something of use in that regard._

_I wish you the best—_

_L_

"Handy Russian, isn't he," Alucard remarked once they'd finished reading.

"Romania closed down…" Integra repeated in a hushed voice. "They're not beating around the bush, are they?"

"Whoever 'they' are, they seem quite confident that nothing stands in their way," Alucard murmured.

He focused on the briefcase. "Let's see what surprise Lukyanenko has in store for us, shall we?"

He took the Swiss Army knife from inside the briefcase and made a slit in the lining of the flap. Reaching in side, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to Integra.

She took it from him and opened it gingerly. Inside was a slip of paper and a key.

"What's it say?" Alucard asked curiously.

"H. T. Clemmens Locksmith Company," she read off of the key.

"The note," he clarified insistently.

"I'm getting there," Integra promised, unfolding the note to reveal the words'211 Aegis Street'.

"It's an address. 211 Aegis St," she informed him blankly.

"Hmm," Alucard mused, tilting his head thoughtfully. ""Shall we risk going there?"

"Did we ever reach a concrete decision regarding his loyalty?" Integra countered practically.

"I don't remember," Alucard answered. "This place sounds interesting though. Shall we track it down?"

Integra wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Another blind move?" she asked with a sigh.

"Have we got anything better to do?" Alucard challenged.

"That's true; it's not safe to stay in a hotel if Romania's kicking foreigners out," she admitted, looking up to see him staring at her expectantly. "What?" she asked.

"Your orders," he prompted patiently.

"Oh," she said, caught off-guard by this unexpected show of docility. "Er…let's check out."

"Excellent," he approved, looking eager to hunt down whatever was waiting for them at 211 Aegis Street. He shut down the laptop and slipped it back into the briefcase along with the Swiss Army knife.

Integra gathered her things and made for the door, faltering when a knock beat her to it.

"Politie," a man's muffled voice filtered through the door. "Deschide usa!"

Integra exchanged a startled look with Alucard. "Police?" she guessed.

Alucard nodded. "Hm," he sighed. "I forgot about them. I wonder what they could want with us."

Integra blinked. "Well, we did leave a street corner drenched in blood and rent corpses last night."

Alucard's brow furrowed. "No, I don't think that's it…I don't think anyone saw us…" he mused, trailing off. "I think this is more to do with Romania's newfound nationalistic decree determined to expell foreigners."

The pounding resumed at the door, only this time the person knocking seemed more intent on breaking down the door rather than merely making their presence known.

"…Either way," Alucard continued, "it does us little good to sit around and wait for them to arrest us."

Integra nodded her agreement, hoisting her bag of clothes over her shoulder and gravitating towards Alucard. "Which begs the question—how do we get out of here?"

Both of their eyes traveled towards the only window in the room: a medium sized, thin glass portal to the outside world that unfortunately happened to abruptly end in a two-story drop.

"Have you ever crashed through a window to escape the police?" Alucard ventured conversationally, casually snagging his uncertain master by the waist and heading towards the window in question.

"No, Alucard, I haven't," Integra answered wearily, bracing herself for impact against the glass.

The sound of breaking glass mirrored the sound of shattering wood as the policemen broke through the door just as Alucard and Integra fell through the window.

In the ensuing chaos, Alucard's hold on Integra unexpectedly slipped, and she was saved only by his panicked scrabble to anchor one hand on the windowsill and then grab her by the wrist with the other.

Integra bit her lip to avoid uttering anything disastrous, such as a panicked squawk. "What are you playing at?" she opted to ask in a low hiss, gently swinging back and forth.

"Sorry," he apologized mildly, "I was momentarily distracted by your heart rate. Don't worry about the police—it's still too dark for them to see us against the wall."

"What did you just say?" Integra asked. "Sorry—I was distracted by the fact that I could fall to my death at any given moment if you aren't careful."

"But I'm being careful," he assured her earnestly in a whisper, before releasing his hold on the windowsill and letting them plummet towards the ground at a heart-stopping speed. He pulled sharply on Integra's arm, maneuvering her upwards and flush against his torso so that when he slowed their descent to safe speed, they were level with one another. "I honestly wouldn't have let go," he insisted in a low voice.

"I know," Integra said resignedly. "I just wish I didn't get the feeling that you do these sorts of things purely to unnerve me."

She met his eyes and caught his grin. "The thing about you, master," he murmured as they set foot on solid ground with a soft fwump, "is that when you accuse me of something…I really can't deny it."

"Not comforting in the slightest," his master commented through gritted teeth, trying to separate her feet from the overly friendly floral inhabitants of the garden in which they'd landed. "Let's get out of this…this sea of plant fronds."

"Sea of plant fronds," Alucard repeated approvingly. "You have a poetic streak, master."

"Hardly," Integra objected. "On a more important note, how do we evade the police and get to Aegis Street?"

"We run, and then we ask someone for directions," her vampire supplied helpfully.

They darted away from the hotel in true fugitive form and managed to escape the hotel property unnoticed.

"Actually," Alucard spoke up when they paused outside a grocery store for Integra to catch her breath, "in the briefcase, we happen to have street maps of the major cities." He rummaged around a bit in the main pocket of the briefcase and pulled out a map. "Here we are," he murmured, "Tirgoviste."

They spread the map out against the brick wall of the store and pored over it intently to find Aegis St.

After a few moments of staring at the winding lines of streets and street blocks, Alucard managed to find it. By some stroke of luck, it was only a few blocks from where they were standing.

When they finally reached Aegis Street, however, it ended in disappointment.

"There is no 211 on Aegis Street," Alucard observed hollowly, staring at the prim beige house—212 Aegis St—in front of them. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"No, I don't think Lukyanenko has a sense of humor," Integra disagreed. "It has to be here somewhere. We just aren't seeing it."

Alucard cast a piercing glance around the street and turned back towards Integra with a scowl. "Maybe it's a mistake—I only see 212 and 214 in front of us…"

Integra sighed and shook her head stubbornly. "It's got to be somewhere," she said in frustration, throwing her hands up in despair. The apparently useless slip of paper with the address fell from her fingers, fluttering to the ground to land on top of a manhole cover.

Upon which the number '211' was spray-painted in a bright, kindly color of blue.

Integra stared at it uncomprehendingly. "I don't believe this," she said softly.

Alucard followed her gaze down and sighed. "How subtle," he murmured. "Nice work, master."

He bent down and hooked a finger around the hole in the cover, lifting it with ease and pushing it to the side, wincing at the harsh grating noise it made as it went. "Shall we descend?" he asked, gesturing towards the manhole with a dubious expression.

Integra eyed the manhole with misgivings. The dark, dank entrance into the unknown was the least inviting thing she'd ever seen.

"Go on," Alucard urged. "There's a ladder down," he pointed out.

This did very little to ease Integra's discomfort, but after giving one last furtive look around the deserted neighborhood, she crouched down and set her foot on the first rung. It vibrated with a pleasant metallic hum at the impact of her foot, but held, so she continued climbing down and reached the stone-paved underground floor without any mishaps.

"Catch," Alucard's disembodied voice filtered down from the street, sounding faint over the thrumming sound of running water coming from some feet away. This was the only warning Integra got before the briefcase sailed down through the manhole, followed by various bags of clothes. By some stroke of luck, she managed to grab all of them before they hit the floor. "You do realize," she called upwards reprovingly, "that you just dropped a laptop down a ten foot shaft to a possible tragic end on a stone floor?"

"But you caught it," Alucard countered implacably, climbing down the ladder after her and pausing only to cover up the manhole with its lid.

"Now it's pitch black," Integra grumbled.

"How unfortunate for you," she heard Alucard's pitiless voice say from somewhere in front of her.

An unexpected ghostly touch against the back of her neck made her jump and she instinctively turned and swung a fist—into Alucard's toothy grin. "Bloody hell," she swore angrily, before nursing her scraped and bleeding knuckles.

"I believe that would be, 'bloody Hellsing'," Alucard corrected amusedly. "A bit jumpy, are we?" he remarked snidely.

"Apparently I have reason to be, if you're going to be playing around," Integra griped. "Find me the Swiss Army knife please."

She felt Alucard take the briefcase from her and heard him rummage through it. "Here you go, master," he said, placing the Swiss Army knife in her hand.

She fumbled with it briefly and found the LED light, switching it on and directing it in front of them. "Weak, but it'll do," she sighed in resignation.

The watered-down blue light revealed a small waterway to her right and dark grey stone wall in front of them, which, upon further illumination, was interrupted by a smooth panel of metal a few feet to their left.

"A door?" she guessed, moving towards the metal panel and finding a keyhole. She fished around in her pocket for the key that Lukyanenko had supplied them with and tested it in the lock. It turned easily and the door opened with a click.

"A hidden room in the sewer subways of Tirgoviste," Alucard remarked, kicking the door in and stepping inside. "I don't know if I have ever been immersed in this much _intrigue_."

"What is this place?" Integra muttered, following after him and dumping the bags inside. She closed the door behind them and swung the LED light around to get a vague idea of their surroundings.

"No need for that," Alucard said, filling the room with light from a paraffin lamp on a desk in the center of the room. He dropped a book of matches on the table beside it and turned to her with a smug grin on his face.

The room was small, approximately eight by eight feet, and contained an impressive number of things for its minute size. To Integra's right was a narrow alcove containing two bunk beds, which were supplied with blankets and pillows. A plain wooden chair accompanied the desk in the center, which had a single drawer in the middle. The entire left wall was stocked with all manners of necessities—imperishable foods, flashlights, a radio, a coil of rope, spare clothes, and countless other items.

"A bolt-hole," Integra labeled appreciatively. "Lukyanenko's given us a hide-away."

"A _very_ handy Russian," Alucard amended from earlier, his voice tinted with approval.

"I wonder if he's arranged these sorts of places all over Europe," Integra speculated out of professional curiosity.

"Hmm," Alucard grunted dismissively, his eyes drawn to the drawer in the desk. "I'm more curious about what could be in this drawer."

He walked over and reached for the handle, roughly jerking it open to scan the contents.

Integra watched his eyes widen and she strode over to view the interior.

Inside was a note, written in what she had come to recognize as Lukyanenko's handwriting.

Beside it was a Smith & Wesson 500 Magnum: a spectacular work of stainless steel perfection outfitted with a short, lethal-looking bayonet.

"Beautiful," she breathed, just vaguely aware that Alucard had simultaneously uttered the same word.

".50 caliber…" she murmured, brushing her hands across the handle. It was a monstrous weapon; eighteen inches promising certain death for whomever it was fired upon. "I don't even think I can lift that, much less fire it," she muttered deprecatingly. "Have fun with it, Alucard."

"Now, now," he murmured calmly, plucking the note from underneath the gun. "Don't dismiss your abilities so easily, master. Let's see what the Russian has to say."

Absolutely nothing, it turned out—the note was brief, generic and unsigned:

_If you are here, then plans have gone awry. This room is your sanctuary. Use it well._

Integra flipped it over and found a map. Further study revealed it mapped out the network of subterranean passageways from the room to sewers and manholes around the city, essentially offering uninhibited travel under the radar. She revised her earlier opinion of the letter's uselessness.

"Anything else of interest?" she asked, noticing Alucard had moved on to inspect the shelves of goods.

"Silverware, chicken soup with rice, corned beef, spam, apricots, pears, olives, condensed milk, and tea," he listed from the food section.

"What kind of tea?" Integra asked eagerly.

"Oolong," Alucard read with a sigh, knowing Integra hated it. "Tough luck."

"I'll live," she muttered, her spirits hardly dampened. She was still in awe over the weapon lying in the unassuming desk drawer. "Anything else?"

"Ammunition for the 500 Magnum, another Swiss Army knife—my, that's awfully generous of them—let's see…a map of Tirgoviste—oh, and a large stash of vodka."

"Vodka," Integra repeated blankly.

"I believe Russians think it deters vampires," Alucard explained delicately.

"And does it?" Integra inquired, eyebrow raised.

"We'll have to investigate that," he suggested with a shrug. "I wouldn't know, being of superior make and all."

"Right," Integra muttered, casting another look around the room and deciding that she approved. "This is all very well thought out."

"Yes," Alucard agreed. He walked across the room to the bunk beds and sat down on the lower one. "The mattress is even moderately comfy," he reported.

"Good to know," Integra said sarcastically. She glanced at her watch. "I think I'll fix myself a delicious breakfast of apricots," she murmured, watching Alucard fluff up a pillow and unfold a blanket on the lower bunk bed.

He looked up when he was done making the bed and blinked. "After which, you will be an extremely considerate master and feed blood to your wonderful, outstanding servant of insuperable skill and devotion."

"Is it that time again already?" Integra asked in surprise. "Surely not."

"A little bit more often seems less detrimental to your functioning than a lot every few days," he pointed out vaguely.

Integra sighed, recognizing, yet resenting the truth in his words. "Fine," she said grudgingly. "Just let me eat first."

She picked up the can of apricots, realizing as she did so that cans needed can openers in order to be of any good. After a fruitless search she turned to Alucard with an appealing and demanding look.

He looked from the can to her expression and, after comprehension had dawned, wrinkled his nose. "I—" he began, looking scandalized, "—am not a can opener."

"What, your teeth aren't strong enough to pierce metal?" she challenged coolly.

She stared at him expectantly until he took the can of apricots from her with a scowl.

He was still eyeing it contemplatively when he suddenly regained his pride. "No," he refused firmly, "this not part of my job description." He cast a piercing look around the cans of food and spotted the elusive can opener from behind a tin of spam. "Here's this," he said with disgust, tossing it to Integra in a huff.

"Thanks," she said mildly, not at all put off by his menacing glare.

He sighed. "I have never been so insulted in my entire life."

"Oh, that simply can't be true," she said with amusement, puncturing the lid and twisting the can opener around to open the apricots. "Pass me a fork, please," she murmured politely, only the slightest bit remorseful.

Alucard wordlessly handed one to her and she accepted it with a smile.

"Ah, delicious," she said after her first bite. Alucard watched her silently, a baleful look on his face, and continuously refused to be drawn into conversation.

As such, breakfast passed quickly, and soon Integra licked her fork clean and deposited the empty can by the door.

"My turn," Alucard spoke up finally, apparently done brooding. He stood from his perch on the bunk bed and strode over to her with a more commanding air, amassing his otherworldly vampire presence into an almost palpable aura.

He stepped behind her and reached out to brush back the ends of her hair, looking fully intent on biting into her neck.

Integra had other ideas. "From the arm, Alucard," she directed sharply.

Her vampire was not so easily dissuaded. "You've agreed to let me drink your blood…why not let me do it…properly?" He inquired in a tone that was borderline wheedling.

"The arm," she reiterated firmly, holding her arm out to clearly communicate her point.

Alucard gave her a wounded look before slumping in defeat. "You're a coldhearted human," he told her.

"Or perhaps it's less conspicuous for me to wear a long-sleeved shirt to conceal bite-marks than it is to wear a scarf," she pointed out with a long-suffering sigh.

"That is practical," Alucard reluctantly conceded. _Very_ reluctantly conceded.

"Also," Integra continued, "I can't have you getting too spoiled."

"Oh no, god forbid," he mumbled resentfully.

Integra gave him a little half-smile, allowing some pity to mar her ruthlessness. "You're a good monster," she said consolingly.

"No, I am a _perfect_ monster," he corrected.

"I won't deny it," Integra stated neutrally, opting to sit down on the bed.

"I should be treated perfectly," he muttered in conclusion. He shifted to sit more closely by her side and tracked her major artery with his nose. She shivered a little when his hands—hands that were so eerily devoid of heat—took hold of her arm and brought it close to his lips.

"I continuously marvel at how warm you are," she heard him murmur against her skin with barely disguised amazement. "So warm," he repeated longingly, pressing his cheek against her upper arm to savor her body heat.

Integra had long ago decided that the scent of blood could often put Alucard into a drunken daze, but it was rare that his muddled mindset reduced him to speaking without thinking—or that his instinctive remarks could be said in such a loving tone. "Get it over with," she said sharply, not quite ready to acknowledge that it was a futile exercise in futility to try to pass off these feedings as mere business arrangements.

"Don't rush my euphoria," she heard him say in muffled tones. She hardly winced as his teeth sank in—she was used to it now, anyways—but couldn't suppress a shiver at the sensation of blood being drained from her arm. It was enough to make her weirdly lightheaded and intensely aware of her rapidly beating heart.

By the time she thought to take slow breaths to even out her heart rate, Alucard had finished and licked her bite marks closed.

He seemed a bit reluctant to let go of her arm, so Integra helped him out by detaching his hands from her skin and pulling her sleeve back down. "There," she said mindlessly, looking up at him.

Even with his eyes closed and drops of blood around his lips, he managed to look lost in thought. Although he was sitting completely still, the fresh infusion of blood had given him an almost tangible energy.

Integra caught herself smiling slightly and guiltily realized in the back of her mind that she was actually fond of the idea that Alucard was dependent on her life force to survive. "Alucard," she said softly, trying to rouse him from his blood-induced reverie.

"Yes, master," Alucard replied mechanically, opening his eyes and giving her an indecipherable glance.

"You have blood…" Integra began, making a circular motion with her fingers around her lips.

"Ah," he realized, tongue snaking out to lick his lips. "Thank you. Wouldn't want to miss a drop."

"I'm sure," she muttered dryly.

Her vampire, partner, constant nuisance and companion stretched lazily and smiled. "Now what?" he asked expectantly.

Integra leaned against the headboard of the bed and drew her knees up. "You promised you'd fill me in on the information Two had about our nemesis," she said. "Tell me everything."

Alucard leaned against the opposite end of the bed. "With pleasure."

--

**(A/N part deux: yes, the fruitless search pun was intentional. Yes, I used an online translator for the brief foray into the land of Romanian. Sorry for the use of the word 'fwump' which isn't actually a word. The Smith & Wesson 500 Magnum was not released until 2003, I think, so if I'm writing this fic with concern for anachronisms, this would be years after the whole Millennium deal. Then again, I'm not concerned about anachronisms in the slightest, so this timeline is still quuuite ambiguous. Also, 'Aegis' means 'protection', which could be meaningful or something. What else do I have to say?**

**Oh yes...**

**I hope that you can forgive me for my horrendous absence, and also maybe this chapter, which I have conflicted feelings about. I have this problem where I start writing fics and then I can't seem to finish them in a timely and satisfactory manner. I love every one of you and I wish you the happiest of holidays).**


	8. Sea of Troubles

**HEY I'm back—did you miss me? -is staked-**

**Don't worry, I have a lengthy explanation, Abe Lincoln style. If you've stuck around waiting for this to update and are demanding anything from reasons to retribution, check out said explanation on my profile. I abhor lengthy author's notes (no, really!) and I feel guilty for being guilty of writing them. **

**So! No more of that. **

**I'd give you a recap of last chapter, but it's been so long I've forgotten what happened. I guess we'll just have to soldier on.**

**Chapter 8: The End of the Alliteration Titles Starts Right Here**

Integra had a captivating elegance that Alucard had made his personal mission to define and commit to memory. Thus staring at her unnervingly had become a favorite pastime, and it was certainly a plus that his master dismissed the frequency of his hungry stares as an inexplicable vampire foible.

"Your report, Alucard," the subject of his thoughts and stares prompted impatiently, "…any day now, I hope." She gave him a characteristic, piercing glare meant to intimidate him into following her will, which softened slightly as she watched him blink out of his thoughts.

His mind inevitably drifted to the information that he had garnered from Two and he sighed. "Two was the grunt of the elite," he began crisply. "Not the sharpest tool on the box…nor that sharp a box." He paused to yawn widely. "Rather like the creature we encountered in that shop in Cimpulung, In short, Two knows very little of the major plans our nemesis has in store for Romania, and was only a single step up from the others." He wrinkled his nose in distaste and fixed Integra with a petulant stare. "It's absolutely no fun at all to be faced with some enemy who keeps throwing herrings at us for us to paint red."

"And paint them red we do," Integra sighed bitterly, pondering this influx of information with disappointment.

"Hn," Alucard grunted unhelpfully. "With that in mind, master, what are your plans?" he asked expectantly.

Integra thought a moment before answering. "Let's go over what we know," she began, threading her fingers together. "…We've been put into quite a chaotic situation."

"Well, yes," he said dryly.

Integra glared at him balefully before continuing. "This situation being that we are stranded in a foreign country with the impossible task of stopping a highly contagious conduit of an apocalypse."

"Right…" Alucard murmured in tones indicating that he thought this exercise was pointless.

"And I have been charged with the mission of stopping the outbreak of drug-spread vampirism in the Romanian populace, but because I am a wanted criminal, my opportunities to assess the extent of the damage facing Romania are limited at best," she continued.

"Also true…" Alucard yawned.

"Not to mention Lukyanenko, my one contact with the outside world, is unreachable."

"Mm. Mmhm," he grunted absently.

"And to top it off, whoever our nemesis is, they've somehow managed to coerce the Romanian government into expelling all foreigners, rendering my very appearance a target to the authorities."

"Ah hah…"

"So my hands are, by all accounts, pretty much tied," she surmised.

"Mm…to the outsider, yes indeed."

"So really, I—what did you say?" Integra interrupted herself with surprise, Alucard's words belatedly permeating her brain.

"We have certainly been backed into a corner," he agreed mildly. "However, we do have a few advantages—unknown to our enemies—that make it more of an…_optional _corner."

Integra gave him a dubious look. "Such as…"

"Well, we have a magnificently effective and powerful weapon…capable of destroying any enemy you wish," he began smugly.

"Ha," Integra said bitterly. "You think an awful lot of yourself…"

Alucard laughed. "I was referring to the 500 Magnum," he said with a raised eyebrow, "but thank you, master, for your vote of confidence," he said in pleased tones.

"The Magnum," Integra repeated doubtfully.

"Yes. Speaking of which—" he broke off abruptly and, not feeling inclined to get up, stretched his arm out to the desk drawer and took out the gun. "You should hold on to it," he suggested, dropping the metal monstrosity into his master's lap.

Integra managed to contain her wince to a single eye twitch at the impact the gun had landing on her lap. "Did this thing come with some sort of holster?" she asked, pushing the gun off of her to rest on the bedcovers.

"Hm," Alucard pondered. "Perhaps…it might be with the extra ammunition," he mused, elongating his arm even further to reach the shelf on the other end of the room.

"Alucard, that really isn't necessary," she said reproachfully.

"A gun? Not necessary?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone of voice.

"I was referring to your gratuitous limb-stretching," she murmured wearily, watching as he fished through the supplies.

"What, you want me to actually get up and walk over?" he asked his master bemusedly, managing to unearth a respectable gun holster from the piles of supplies.

"Kind of you," she sighed as he handed it to her.

"You ought to try it out," he pressed. "The Magnum," he clarified.

"I'll pass for now, thanks," she said dubiously, gingerly holstering the behemoth of a firearm and strapping it to her waist. "Anything else to report?" she inquired as she secured it to herself.

"Oh yes," Alucard realized, "Two was also in charge of a drug distribution center."

Integra looked from her task in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me this crucial bit of information earlier?" She demanded.

Alucard cocked his head. "Well, because I just told you now...?" he suggested with a shrug. "It must have momentarily slipped my mind…" he trailed off.

"I assume you have the location at the very least," Integra said frigidly.

"Oh, of course," he replied soothingly. "I expect we could plot a course of travel through the subterranean paths that are open to us and check out this drug place, if you so desire. If we, you know, want to actually do something about Romania's problems rather than just dash about narrowly escaping death—something that would be less of a worry if you were…less mortal."

Integra thinned her lips as Alucard's roundabout point emerged, not liking his return to dropping hints about her 'limitations' as a mortal. "Alucard," she said quietly.

He looked away with a little huff and tapped his fingers unhappily against the desk.

"Alright then," she began, relieved that he wasn't pushing the mortality issue. "Let's make tonight's priority obtaining a sample of the drug."

"Fantastic," her vampire said with a gleam in his eye, distracted—or at least pretending to be distracted—from his previous comment. "Finally, something productive. Will there be any killing involved?" he inquired.

"I'd rather we not draw attention to ourselves," Integra replied, noting the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "However, should any of the drug users should change or become violent, or if it is obvious that they are being controlled...perhaps."

"Then I look forward to at least five good kills," he said confidently.

"Hmph," Integra said, moving off the bed to the desk and unfolding a map of Tirgoviste. "Tell me where this center is," she ordered, pulling out the map of the sewer system on the back of Lukyanenko' letter to compare and compile their travel route.

The faint tingling sensation of a presence was the only indication she had of Alucard silently drifting up behind her and looking over her shoulder. "About here," he murmured, trailing his fingers across the Tirgoviste map to stop at one particular intersection, a motion he then repeated in a similar path across the map of the sewers.

Integra penciled in a corresponding dotted line through the underground pathways and carefully marked the manhole nearest to the drug center. She dropped the pencil on the desk and turned to face Alucard, immediately more at ease when he was in her line of vision.

He was looking at her thoughtfully. "It's…" he paused to consider, "…still pretty early in the day. We ought to rest until dark."

Integra pursed her lips, hating the waste of time but well aware that it was inevitable. "Very well," she sighed, "then go to sleep. I'll—find a way to occupy my time."

"You could sleep too," Alucard pointed out. "In all probability we will have a long night ahead of us."

She sighed. "I'm not tired at all," she muttered, their planning having provoked a large quantity of nervous energy rather than exhaustion.

"Sleep when you can," he advised. "And when it is practical. Which happens to be right about now."

"Fine," Integra snapped irritably, ruffled by her vampire's increased assertiveness that bordered on subversion. She stalked over to the bottom bunk, taking off her coat as she went but paused, sensing Alucard's presence behind her. "You may have the top bunk," she said, turning to give him a pointed look.

"Of course," he replied agreeably, gracefully launching up to the top bunk without a sound. "Sweet dreams," he wished her cordially, the faintest of smiles gracing his lips.

As Integra climbed into the bottom bunk and burrowed under the covers, she wondered if she was out of line for suspecting Alucard of an ulterior motive merely because of this exhibit of docile behavior.

--

She awoke hours later in the arms of her vampire.

"Alucard," she began in a dangerous tone, surprised by how unsurprised she was.

She felt him shift slightly and sigh. "You were shivering," he justified mildly, his voice slightly muffled.

"Giving me an extra blanket would have sufficed," she said icily.

"I did," he answered softly, pointing out the rumpled third blanket that had been thrown on top of her. "You didn't stop."

"I fail to see how your cold corpse could succeed where a wool blanket failed," she said dryly.

"There are many things I can provide that a wool blanket cannot," he countered serenely, momentarily putting his master at a loss for words.

Fuming, Integra thinned hr lips, realizing that for the entirety of their conversation, he had not yet moved away from her. "Alucard—" she began again, preparing to tell him in no uncertain terms to get out of the bed.

"Oh, don't tell me you're going to take the easy way out and _order _me to get away from you," he said disdainfully, eyes narrowing challengingly.

She blinked. "Alucard, I order you to get away from me," she said simply, relaxing when he moved away from her with a reluctant sigh. She pushed away the unexpected feeling of vulnerability she felt with the loss of contact and attributed it to just waking up. "Really, Alucard," she continued in lecturing tones, "first you chew on my arm, then you have the audacity to sleep next to me? I won't tolerate you taking such liberties of my person in the future."

"Forgive me, my master," he said, "I had only the best intentions at heart."

Integra raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to forgive me as well, for my difficulty believing that."

"You are forgiven," he said with dry amusement. "Now. It is early evening, what shall we do?"

"Dinner, then we leave," she answered.

"I have a better idea," he murmured, standing up.

"What's that?" Integra asked blankly, watching warily as Alucard moved towards the door.

"You'll know when I'm back in a bit," he replied impudently.

"Where are you going?" she demanded sharply.

"Out," he told her simply, reaching the door at a leisurely pace and pushing it open.

Integra made a dash for the door, but he smoothly slipped out and closed it behind him before she reached it. "Alucard," she began threateningly from inside the room, pushing against the door in vain.

"Don't go anywhere," she heard Alucard advise faintly from the other side of the door. "It's not safe. And do not worry, I'll be back."

Integra waited briefly and then tried the door again. It opened easily, but when she looked out into the darkened passageway, Alucard had already gone. Swearing quietly, she slammed the door and ruthlessly kicked it for good measure.

Resigned to solitary confinement for the time being, she sat back on the bed and resolved to test the Magnum on Alucard when he returned.

--

The door opened and then snicked shut. "Honey, I'm home," Alucard purred in dulcet tones, adding, "And I've brought dinner," before Integra could begin berating him.

"Where have you been?" she demanded in a furious snarl, only to be brought up short by the sight of Alucard regarding her with a bemused look and holding a Styrofoam container in one hand.

"Hunting dinner," he answered mildly, setting the container down on the desk. "It put up a good fight, but I persevered in the end." He walked over to stand just a few feet away from her and smiled. "Rejoice, my master. I have brought you England…in a box."

He punctuated these last words by opening the foam container with a flourish. "May I present to you: fish and chips."

The delectable aroma of beer-battered fish and freshly fried chips flooded Integra's senses with the opening of the container. "How did you…" she began, slightly incoherent with disbelief, "where did you—" she broke off, opting to eat a chip instead of speak.

"It took a long time to find a place that made such a dish," Alucard explained in a murmur, watching with interest as Integra located a fork and eagerly dug in to the fish filet.

"Delicious," she murmured succinctly, her mind flooded with wonder and bewilderment that Alucard had done this for her.

And then it hit her.

"You're priming me for your meal," she realized. "Fattening me up for the slaughter."

"Oh yes," Alucard confirmed without a trace of chagrin. "But you put it so crudely. I'm _seasoning _you. I can't even think about what eating canned goods will do to the taste of your blood. I happen to care for the quality of my food."

"How considerate," Integra murmured bitterly, although she wasn't about to pass up a good meal of fish and chips. "Thanks anyway," she said grudgingly.

"You are very welcome," he purred, pulling out the chair for her to sit.

"But," she pressed on, "don't ever leave again without telling me where you're going."

"Oh come now, master," Alucard said, "if you really hadn't trusted me to behave myself, you would have just ordered me back."

With a sigh, Integra focused on eating her fish and chips. Of course he was right, but it was the _principle _of the thing. "I can't permit you to go haring off to—to—wherever, just because you think I trust you to behave yourself," she muttered resentfully.

"But look at the results of such leniency," Alucard pointed out persuasively. "And besides, I blend in very nicely; I was able to scout the area. There's a nice coffee house nearby where I presume you could get coffee, and conceivably quite a bit of information."

"Hmph," Integra huffed through a mouthful of fish.

"Almost done?" Alucard asked impatiently.

She looked at her meal. "About halfway," she answered, continuing at a leisurely pace.

Alucard's nostrils flared. "Perhaps you should—"

"Do I rush you when you're drinking my blood?" she interrupted coolly, giving him a steely glare. "The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."

"Don't quote Tolstoy at me," Alucard all but snarled. "If you hurried up, _we _could be contenders for the two most powerful warriors."

Integra finished off the last of the chips with a sigh and stood up. "Unlikely," she remarked, inspecting her clothes for crumbs and finding herself wishing that she could be wearing a suit. "Must I wear this atrocious blouse?" she asked forlornly. "Can't I just go out disguised as a man—"

"No suits," Alucard cut in sharply. "Nothing unique to you."

"I just feel uncomfortable in these," she explained, gesturing distastefully at her feminine clothes. They made her look weaker, more vulnerable, more…womanly.

Alucard drew closer and patted her shoulder lightly. "Don't worry, Master—it would take more than wearing a suit to make me forget you're a woman anyway."

She shot him a glare, but he just returned her look with a maddening shrug.

"Oh, master…" he sighed, before looking towards the door. "…Let us go take arms against a sea of troubles."

"And by opposing, end them," Integra finished automatically, startled by this unexpected Shakespeare.

Alucard grinned. "Our best strategy yet."

**--**

**Sorry this chapter is so…choppy and not-betaed. Also I'm uncomfortable with A & I's characterizations (I'm a bit rusty on writing 'em). But I figured if I haven't been able to improve the chapter over the last five months it probably won't get any better. It was the Mount Everest of chapters to write (20-plus pages…ultimately split into two) and each section was written out of order, or as dictated by my chronic writer's block. **

**And sorry its mostly **_**filler, **_**but have heart, the action's coming along soon. Review if you like, but no pressure…after all, it took me five months to get back to you guys (and you all were so encouraging! I've let you down so badly). Seriously though, I'm going to try and make it up to you. I think I'm back to normal. I really do love you guys. wibble.  
**

**Then again, if you spot any mistakes (and I've no doubt there are many flaws) do let me know. **

**On another note, I've decided I'm going to NYU this fall. **_** Tasty.**_


	9. No Killing

**A/N: remember, way back when, in chapter 3, Alucard explained Romanian currency? And a ban was like, a penny/ pence? Yeah…that comes up later. Thought I'd refresh your memory just in case…to avoid confusion. Also a leu is like a pound, plural being lei.**

**Another quick note: this chapter hot off the presses! Meaning the usual warnings of mistakes and general shoddiness. Only took me two weeks to update!  
**

**Chapter 9: …Chapter Nine**

-- --

Alucard's boots made no sound on the stone pathway, making Integra feel strongly pressured to make her footsteps as silent as possible. Unfortunately, concentrating on this made her forget to watch for obstacles in her way, and she skidded through a puddle of questionable liquid and almost fell.

"Watch your step," Alucard cautioned belatedly, bracing her with one hand on her upper arm. "It's slippery here."

"It's also a tad bit hard for me to see," Integra pointed out.

"Ah, how easily I forget," he said by way of apology. "Here..."

Integra sensed more than saw him come up behind her, then felt his fingers land on her shoulders and lightly rest on them.

They continued on their way in this fashion, his fingers guiding her around puddles and perilous edges of the passageways with gently applied pressure from his hands, or, in extreme cases, by effortlessly lifting her up and over obstacles in their path.

Integra didn't like it one bit, but given its necessity, she didn't feel it was worth fussing over. "Ugh," she grunted distastefully after a moment's pause, detecting more sewer-worthy odors wafting their way, "this smell is awful."

"Look on the bright side," Alucard suggested in a languid murmur. "This architecture is quite lovely—the curved, limestone arches on either side, the water-stained stone walls…you must admit, it evokes quite a sepulchral charm."

"Bright side," Integra repeated dubiously. "Miss your basement lair at the Manor?" she guessed, her mind drifting longingly to her own rooms that she had abandoned for this venture.

"Yes," Alucard wistfully replied. "It does bring to mind my more permanent residence in your basement. Fortunately, it is not as…odiferous there."

Integra nodded her agreement and peered at the map. The gloom made reading it impossible, so she handed it over to Alucard. "Where to?" She asked him.

"Left here," he replied, "and then nine paces around this bend…" he trailed off to guide them forward, eventually coming to a stop in front of a set of iron rungs. "Here we are…" he murmured, tilting his head up to gaze at what Integra assumed must be the manhole cover.

"See you up top," he said, opting to float up out of the manhole rather than use something as mudane as the rungs on the side of the tunnel wall.

With a sigh, Integra began ascending through these more normal means, noting that at least Alucard had taken care of removing the manhole cover on his way out.

By the time she reached the outside world, her vampire was standing off to the side with his arms slightly outstretched and his eyes closed.

"What are you doing?" she asked warily, seeing an expression of ecstasy on his face not unlike when he fed.

"This atmosphere," he began murmuring, his eyes still closed. "This...night air. One could positively drink it in." Integra watched with interest as his mouth slightly parted and he appeared to attempt just that. Her intrigue turned to disbelief when the shadows around them seemed to stretch towards him, apparently longing for his contact as much as he yearned for theirs.

Or perhaps the sudden gathering of darkness around his form was a trick of the light, or dark—or the mind—but unfortunately, Integra hardly had time to contemplate it before Alucard shook out of his otherworldly demeanor and gave her a lazy smile. "Shall we begin our investigation, master?" he asked, the slivers of darkness he'd gathered slipping away regretfully, and the blackened night returning to its normal shade of clear, dark blue illuminated by the near-full moon.

Integra was uncomfortably reminded of the fact that Alucard was—and could only really ever be categorized as—'something else altogether', and that she'd spent the last few seconds watching her servant drink in the adoration of shadows she had not previously considered sentient. "Yes, that's on the agenda," she confirmed, matching his smile somewhat wryly.

"Oh, and look: people," he murmured, turning the focus of Integra's thoughts away from him.

She followed his gaze to the ramshackle collection of buildings in front of them, where a few people were listlessly loitering about. The most concentrated group was in front of a rundown, red brick building that happened to lack windows.

"I'm surprised they're not all hiding in their homes," Integra remarked. "Haven't they any idea of what's going on?"

Alucard shook his head. "Au contraire—you've mistaken these people for normal, upstanding citizens, when they are, in fact, the very targets of our nemesis—the bottom tier of society, forsaken by their government, drenched in hopelessness, and so very, very willing to resort to drugs to indulge in that extremely human characteristic called 'denial'." He raised one hand to gesture in the direction of the distant, better kempt houses and buildings. "Your average Romanian is well aware—and quite accepting, might I add—of the supernatural," he explained with some pride. "They are prepared to weather any storm, and this one approaching them is no different—in their view."

He paused. "In general, though, I find that humans are often remarkably unwilling to accept supernatural and horrific circumstances confronting them. An aspect of human nature that is probably strongly contributing to the spread of the drug. The drug's effects are so far outside the scope of people's understanding of reality that they are too afraid to stop its spread."

"Foolish, and fatal," Integra muttered irritably, alarmed to discover that after exclusively spending the last few days with a vampire, being around innocent, oblivious humans was uncomfortably abrasive.

"Now you know how I feel all the time," Alucard murmured, who apparently had no qualms about eavesdropping on her thoughts.

Integra thinned her lips in disapproval anyway. "Is that the center up ahead then?" she inquired, nodding in the direction of the brick building.

"Yes," Alucard replied, "and those people in front are drug addicts, all in various stages of vampire conversion. Drug-ulas, perhaps."

Integra closed her eyes wearily. "Five hundred years of personally experiencing cultural evolution—the renaissance, philosophy, the arts—and that's the best quip you can come up with? Please, spare me your poor excuse for wit."

"Eye of the beholder," Alucard shrugged, unfazed.

As they drew closer to the building, Integra's sense of unease increased. A single streetlight served to illuminate the area, leaving her heavily dependent on her sense of hearing, touch, and on Alucard. "What a party," she said grimly in a low voice, taking in the pinched, miserable faces of the desperate drug addicts they were approaching.

"Yes, truly a fête worse than death," Alucard remarked.

Integra couldn't help a small smile. "Better," she conceded grudgingly. She looked back at the brick building, which showed no signs of life. Nor did the people milling about in front, which she supposed was rather telling. "They're not open for business yet," she surmised.

"So it would seem," Alucard agreed. "What shall we do in the meantime?"

Integra frowned thoughtfully. "It can't be long before something happens," she said optimistically. "We'll just wait about, I suppose." She moved into the shadow of the building directly facing the center across the street and sat down on the sidewalk.

"Oh how abysmal," Alucard complained in a low voice, moving to sit next to her. "Couldn't we go…talk to those people…or something?"

"What are we, reporters?" Integra scoffed. "Tonight our guidelines are objectivity and observation, Alucard."

"Alastair," He corrected sulkily. "I thought we were getting a sample of the drug. What are we going to do, _observe_ the drug into our possession?"

"I'm sure it's not outside the realm of possibility for you," Integra countered mildly. "But we are not to make a move unless something more concrete happens," she continued firmly. "Should the center…open, or otherwise become active, we'll pose as drug addicts and obtain the drug that way."

"Alright," Alucard sighed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Integra noticed he was going quite blurry around the edges. "Do try to contain your self," she advised, despite feeling her own spike of impatience.

"I just really want…to kill something," he justified.

"No killing," she reminded him.

He sighed again. "Guess it'll have to be time, then…" he murmured.

At that moment, the door of the center opened and a figure stepped out of the shadows, making those loitering about the building—and Alucard—brighten. "Things are looking up," he reported, even as the figure disappeared back inside.

"No killing," Integra figured she'd better repeat. "Keep in mind that we're here to get a sample of the drug, not to fulfill your dark murderous impulses."

"Right," he agreed reluctantly. "Which of us will pose as the drug addict?"

"I'll go," Integra volunteered, and, not trusting him to behave, added, "You stay here."

Alucard eyed her stubbornly. "I'm not going to let you go off without me," he said.

"I'll be fine alone," Integra said in a placating tone of voice.

"You'll be even better with me," he insisted. "Do you really expect me to believe that you'll be able to accomplish anything without command of the language your opponents will be speaking?"

"I…" she began, words dying in her throat as she recognized the truth of his statement. "…Didn't think of that," she admitted through gritted teeth.

"Clearly," Alucard agreed smugly. "Don't worry, I'll handle the socializing," he assured her with a menacing grin. "Pull up your hood or something—can't have the locals calling deportation officers because they spot your uniquely blonde hair."

They watched as the door of the decrepit apartment opened again, precipitating the swarming of dozens of drug addicts eager for a fix. They surged towards the figure, desperately clawing at one another to get closer to the front, oblivious to the blood they were shedding of their fellows in their efforts. Some of the more pale and animalistic of the addicts, rather than being oblivious, looked as though they reveled in the violence.

Alucard's nostrils flared at the blatant, unrepentant bloodlust presented in front of him. He could relate to the mindless glee that these near-vampires were exhibiting, but he kept that sort of barbaric, base instinct under layers of control and sophistication. These creatures, these paper dolls…they had no idea what they were getting into…and he had no doubt that he could obliterate them in an instant if he so desired.

But his master didn't, so he held back. "What now?" he asked softly, watching as the crowd of addicts thinned, exposing the figure framed in the doorway. In their hand was a tray filled with syringes.

"Convenient," Integra whispered. "For them, and us. Such an odd choice for a drug form though, as opposed to pills, or powder…"

"We can ponder that later," Alucard cut in impatiently. "Your orders, Master?" he asked.

"Go forward and get a syringe," Integra said. "You look enough like a vampire to go without notice."

"I wonder why I look so much like a vampire," he mused sardonically, leafing through a wad of lei as he left his master behind and began strolling towards the figure.

The crowd receded before him, oddly enough, and he reached the drug distributor with relative ease. He wondered if they subconsciously sensed his true nature, or, more worryingly, if they somehow knew who he was and, for some ominous reason, were letting him get the drug.

Whatever the cause, the figure in front of him wordlessly handed him a syringe full of clear liquid in exchange for the lei he held out.

Apparently this was the end of the transaction, for the figure immediately turned to the next person clamoring for the drug.

As he walked away, he passed a miserable looking pair sitting against the side of the building, empty syringes at their sides. One of them pitched forward and vomited as he passed.

He stopped and turned back to look at them curiously. "Why do you take the drug if it makes you sick?" he asked the dejected man closest to him.

"Ah, well," Dejected began replying listlessly, halfheartedly gesturing in a vague manner towards the syringes next to him, "I just…can't think of anything else besides these anymore. They are life to me."

"Ya," Even More Dejected agreed from beside him with a slow nod. "They are life."

"But why persist in using them if they are so…consuming?" Alucard pressed.

Even More Dejected sighed. "It grabs hold of you…it squeezes you from inside out, you can't breathe, you can't think…it chokes away everything and leaves you…"

"…Empty," Dejected finished for him in a blissful sigh. "The sickness is fleeting…the reward is everlasting."

"What are they saying?" Integra inquired from behind him in a low voice.

"Nothing particularly important," Alucard answered quietly. "I can't stand being around these paper dolls…can we leave?"

"Paper dolls," Integra repeated. "Apt, I suppose. You got the drug?"

"Of course," he replied, casting another glance around the street at the drawn and pale faces of those injecting their doom into their veins.

"Everyone looks so drained," his master murmured as she followed his gaze. "If only we could shut it d—"

"I wouldn't suggest it," Alucard interjected firmly, placing a hand on Integra's shoulder and guiding her away from the building. "You could plot to sabotage all the drug factories you want, but they'd still suffer and eventually die from drug withdrawal," he told her grimly.

Integra glared at him, but didn't fight against his guiding hand. "Then what can we possibly do?" she fumed as they walked. "How can we fix this?"

"Sometimes there is no perfect solution," Alucard said gently, helping her down into the manhole.

"I _know_ that," she hissed, reaching the bottom and glaring up at Alucard while he dragged the cover back over the opening.

"And you have to do the best you can, and work with what you've got," he continued wisely, hopping down to stand next to her.

"And what have I got?" his master demanded.

Alucard eyed her calmly. "You know your advantages, Master," he said patiently, his manner more soothing than infuriating to Integra despite the intensity of her frustration.

She turned away slightly, not up to looking at his smug expression head on, and opted to walk more briskly back towards their bolt-hole.

Now that they more or less knew the way, the walk back was shorter, and with Alucard guiding Integra, they reached the door to their room without any mishaps. "Remind me to bring the flashlight next time," Integra sighed, unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Alucard followed, taking out the drug-filled syringe from his pocket and placing it on the desk. "Let's rest a minute," he suggested, eyeing Integra's drawn features with a slight frown.

"Fine," Integra sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bottom bunk and leaning against the headboard.

Alucard joined her at the other end of the bed so that he faced her. "All in all, an uneventful night," he remarked.

"Yes," Integra murmured absently, her mind going back to Alucard's earlier words about the advantages she had.

She drew up her knees, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, and frowned in thought.

What was it she had? What were her advantages?

Well, there was Alucard, of course. She had Alucard.

And even after all these years, she was still somewhat in awe of the fact that she had stumbled upon him, a vampire who had rescued her, protected her, poked fun at her, and then proceeded to instate himself as a constant in her life for what must now be over twelve years. It was exhausting to think that she had suffered his enigmatic aura of being a monster and close friend for over a decade.

He was a vampire who had tried to maintain a painfully exact emotional and physical distance from her ever since their first meeting. Somewhere along the way, he must have failed, especially now that they were lost in a foreign—well, foreign to her, anyway—land, filled with menace, where such circumstances had forced a deep and close companionship.

When had she started feeling bereft without him at her side? When had she stopped being so acutely aware of their master-servant inequality? When had she started appreciating him for being more than a highly efficient killing machine?

…What had gone wrong?

"A _ban_ for your thoughts," Alucard murmured. "I'm especially curious, seeing as you've been staring at me for quite a while now."

Integra coughed slightly and fought to maintain her composure. "I wondering if I've…erred in my treatment of you as your master."

Alucard raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he inquired, flipping her another ban. "Do continue."

"And if you resent me treating you so much like a human," she phrased carefully, trying to determine his reaction. She tossed back one of the ban. "For your thoughts," she prompted.

Alucard sat back and interwove his fingers. "Very few people have treated me in a humane manner over the course of my long and appalling life," he told her. "You are...refreshing."

Integra's eyes narrowed. Refreshing. She was refreshing. That wasn't an answer. She flipped the second ban back at him. "Feel free to elaborate," she invited coolly.

He grinned. "You are, without a doubt, the best human with whom I have ever kept company," he said bluntly.

Integra stilled, his words still ringing pleasantly in her ears. It wasn't until a coin hit her forehead that she realized he was waiting for a response. She picked up the ban from where it had fallen into her lap and held it in her palm. "You are the one monster I will never want to kill," she replied, holding his gaze to convey the validity of that declaration. It was the closest she could get to a promise.

Another ban flew at her, but she deftly caught it in her hand before it could assault her forehead again. "And?" Alucard prompted, eyes glinting with approval at her reflexes.

Integra hesitated slightly. "You are—" she stopped.

"Yes?"

"I trust you completely," She admitted.

"Oh?" Alucard challenged, moving dauntingly close and putting both hands on her shoulders. Integra let the ban slip through her fingers in an effort to brace herself against the bed, but wasn't prepared to be so forcefully shoved down. Within seconds, her back was completely flat against the mattress and Alucard was on top of her.

Aware that this was a test of her declaration of trust, she merely regarded him coolly, letting his mouth drift close to her neck. It was only when Integra felt teeth fasten loosely around her neck that she even bothered to reach for her gun, and she only pointed it against Alucard's torso when the teeth began to press firmly enough to leave indentations in her skin.

She felt Alucard chuckle against her neck and then an absence of teeth when he pulled away. "Liar," he accused. Integra bristled at the idea that he might be challenging her statement. "You told me you 'couldn't even lift the Magnum, much less fire it'," he continued lazily, "Yet there it is, ready to be emptied into my—" he paused, considering, "—liver. I think."

Integra holstered the heavy weapon after Alucard rolled off of her. "One monster I don't want to kill," she repeated firmly. "I'm too fond of you."

Another ban hit her on the cheek. Integra frowned; beginning to get slightly irritated at these unwelcome coin attacks.

"That concession was worth another," he explained with a shrug and an amused smile.

Integra gave him a faint smile in return and sat up. "Are you hungry?" she inquired suddenly.

Alucard raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering?" he asked in surprise. "But no," he continued without waiting for an answer. "I am fine for now."

It was Integra's turn to be surprised. "A vampire who isn't hungry? I find it hard to conceive of such a mythical creature," she remarked.

He huffed and gave her an imploring look. "It may come as a shock to you, but I am as concerned for your welfare as you are for mine."

"It isn't shocking," Integra assured him.

"Well then," Alucard said, "I will let you know when I need sustenance."

They both turned to look at the syringe lying innocently on the desk. "And what about this?" Integra asked.

"Ah yes," Alucard murmured, "Whatever are we going to do with you?"

"In lieu of a chemistry lab, which unfortunately is not at our disposal," Integra said, "Can't you, er, somehow analyze it? Productively?"

"I'm sure it's not outside of the realm of possibility for me," Alucard purred mockingly, moving off the bed and walking over to the desk. "Come, little syringe," he cooed, picking up the dose of Exhilaration. "Tell me all your secrets. I'm sure you have a lot to say."

-- --

Just a few hundred miles away, Nikolai Lukyanenko shifted in his seat behind his desk and avidly watched as his worst fears were confirmed and recorded on the security cameras in his Institute's building.

Knowing he only had a few minutes, he reached for the handgun he kept in his drawer and ensured that it was loaded, and then placed it in his lap.

The door to his office opened seconds later and a tall, fairly young man dressed in a black suit silently entered, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there.

"Grigore," Lukyanenko greeted neutrally from his seat behind his desk, face aglow in the blue-tinge light of many security camera monitors. "Your devotion to your duty is commendable, to be here so late. It is past midnight, is it not? Everyone else has left."

The man—Grigore—froze at the sound of Lukyanenko's voice. "I…didn't think you would still be here, sir," he said cautiously. "I hope I have not disturbed your work."

"Don't worry," Lukyanenko assured him. "I was already disturbed," he muttered to himself. "What brings you to the main office?" he asked more audibly.

"Oh—I was just double-checking some facts on this Romania business," Grigore answered smoothly.

"Ah, that is a good idea," Lukyanenko nodded. "I'm finding many aspects of this case are worth double-checking."

Grigore frowned. "Sir?" he asked curiously drawing closer to Lukyanenko's desk.

"For instance," Lukyanenko continued obligingly, "you might have wanted to double-check what the security measures are for this building…and what time they come into effect."

Grigore stared at him blankly. "Sir—is there something wrong…? Are you feeling all right sir?" he asked earnestly.

Lukyanenko shifted his chair to fully face Grigore, his face impassive as he aimed a gun at Grigore's heart and watched his target pale and back away. "A quick lesson in security," Lukyanenko began crisply. "Do not try to flee; I've got the whole place in lockdown. I'll simply hunt you down and kill you."

Grigore's eyes darted back and forth nervously, and he bit his lip. "Sir—" he tried to reason plaintively.

"Listen,' Lukyanenko cut in sharply. "One of the fundamental security measures in this building is motion sensors. They turn on at eleven every night. Ergo, I was immediately notified when you entered the building. This wouldn't be suspicious, as you are perfectly entitled to come here—you're one of my employees, after all—however, I noticed a peculiar anomaly as you walked closer to my office." He waved his free hand in the general direction of the security cameras and sighed. "Another basic security form is the heat sensors we have placed at regular intervals in the hallway." He paused with a well-practiced confused frown on his face. "You see, the motion sensors caught you…but the heat sensors did not."

"I happen to find this interesting, primarily because you normally must be dead—or undead—to achieve this manner of discrepancy. Either that, or, of course, the heat sensors are faulty. Which do you think it is, Grigore?"

Grigore looked sick. "I…" he began, faltering. "I don't—"

Lukyanenko sighed. "What did they do, bribe you with money? Ply you with promises of eternal life and glory?"

"Eternal life," Grigore replied stiffly. "They mailed the drug to me, I sent them information."

Lukyanenko's eyes narrowed. "You intercepted my correspondence with Sir Hellsing?"

"Y-yes," Grigore admitted.

"And you worked for them. Does this mean you have useful information about them?" Lukyanenko asked sharply.

"None at all," Grigore answered dully. "I was to join them in Romania on the twentieth of December…"

"How interesting," his interrogator murmured, keeping his gun trained on Grigore. "You've worked for me for—how long?"

"Six years, five months, two weeks and four days," Grigore said mechanically.

"Mm. And you've been quite candid with me," Lukyanenko mused. "You didn't really seriously bother trying to lie to me—I could probably find a way to make you useful as a double-spy—"

"Sir, I'd do anything—" Grigore interrupted desperately.

"But Grigore," Lukyanenko cut him off in a lightly chastising tone, "how could you overlook something as elementary as heat sensors?"

He pulled the trigger and watched as his traitorous employee crumbled into dust. "I don't need such shortsighted idiots in my employ," he told the empty air with finality.

-- --

**God, just how many ellipses did I USE in this chapter?? More than my fair share, more than my fair share.**

**But yeah…Lukyanenko is **_**badass? **_

**Annnd errr I hope I redeemed myself slightly for the awfulness of chapter 8. That will be rewritten, uh, soon. Many thanks to Lavinia Lavender for concrit and characterization advice and stuff. And thanks really to all of you for your reviews! They are lovely, you are lovely, oh, everything is just so lovely. Seriously though--there will be serious chapter 8 reconstruction, as soon as I figure it all out.  
**

**Also, this chapter is unbetaed, which is a terrible habit to fall into. Posting unpolished chapters and expecting that I will edit them later, that is. How unprofessional of me. **

**Anyway, in spite of all that, I hope you enjoyed it.  
**


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